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Driving through the post-midnight darkness, fast-flickering flashes of memories of a life he lived fully many years ago in New Jersey — for 23 years — kept going off in his head.
The Little League baseball park in Middlesex with the sweet home run fence; the Rutgers U campus where he took a cool advertising class; the 287 highway where he heard U2’s “Beautiful Day” when he was finishing an arduous and mind-expanding MBA program; the town names on highway signs such as Perth Amboy and Bernardsville; the driving of his daughter to swim meets at the Sonny Werblin Aquatics Center; his son’s state title football game against Bergen Catholic at gigantic MetLife Stadium.
It all seemed so long ago like a life lived by a different person, as if it may have never happened although it most certainly did. He was sure of that, but unsure of what it all meant then and now.
He was there all those years in New Jersey helping three kids get through grade school then high school then college. Working to pay for it all. He raised Jersey kids which means they learned the art of slick sarcasm and thriving in a world where rapid talk and tough people are on every street corner.
New Jersey—it used to be his home. New Jersey—so cool a place in so many ways not to mention aesthetically beautiful in Central Jersey though almost no one believes that who hasn’t witnessed it. New Jersey — where he figured he might stay much longer than 23 years until, well, life changed so seven years ago he drove out of his Bernardsville, New Jersey neighborhood where his kids trick or treated and did everything else and that was the end. Picked up all the stuff and drove away seemingly forever.
Gone. Close the door on one phase of life. Drive into another and see what happens.
Moved to North Carolina to start over a new life. There wasn’t time for much nostalgia not with finding a job on his agenda. So the interviews and rejections started pouring all over his body, mind and soul. New Jersey was no longer his life. It was just a place he used to live. Employment, that was all.
Things got better. The job thing got fixed. Moving to North Carolina felt like coming home because he went to college at Wake Forest University. He had come back to where his life had been formed as a misguided but idealistic undergraduate who found out there the value of learning. This all had a nice feeling to it in terms of a person’s arc and trajectory and narrative while being alive.
He was back in Carolina.
Now, this morning and starting last night, he was back in Jersey.
We keep coming back, don’t we? Or wish we could? And when it happens memories and images start to flash.
Author Profile
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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