Happy places

1. My grandpa's house, where no one I know still lives. There was art, painted by my very own uncle, hanging from the walls and old, faded pictures of people who have my nose or my straight hair or my insecurities. We'd sit around the kitchen table and talk about life and my dad and mistakes and then we'd have dessert. When I was 11, I was in an accident. My uncle accidentally hit me in the eye with a baseball bat in the batting cages at a miniature golf course. I was in the hospital for a week, for surgery and recovery, and then I stayed another three weeks at my grandpa's house so my stitches and eyesight could be monitored. My grandpa watched West Side Story with me, late into the night, and he took me to Wal-Mart in his sports car. He died less than two years later, and even though I still have a small scar under my eye and you can feel the plate that holds my eye socket together from the accident, I often think, Thank god for that injury. Thank god for those weeks I had with him. I would never have had them otherwise.

2. Bookstores. They're so much quieter than other stores I give my money to. I love leisurely walking the aisles for my next favorite read and also searching out books I've had a hand in creating. I could spend hours and hours in bookstores, reading the back copy on each novel, the first pages of the ones who are really intriguing. This is why my house is filled with books I've never read: sometimes the idea of reading is better than actually reading.

3. The passenger seat of our car. I love a good road trip, and that actually hasn't changed since having Kyle. The car has been the one place he never cries, never complains. I can read a magazine, check out the view, listen to some music or talk with Mike. I'm a big believer in the journey, and unless the destination is Target or a cupcake, I'm never in a hurry when I'm not driving.

4. A small little villa -- Siempre Azul -- on the island of St. John, where Mike and I honeymooned for nine days in the summer of 2007. We arrived, just us, to the most exclusive little piece of land I've ever been. I looked at my husband and thought, Just us, here, for so long? Yeah, I think I can manage that. Our money ran dry, and we were sun-toasted and we also had bills and a dog waiting for us back in Texas, but those nine days, in that villa -- where we drank beer and ate Pringles and watched the ants march by on the porch -- were as close to perfect living as I've ever gotten. Just you and me is nice, I said to him one night. He smiled. He always says so much more with his smiles. We have Kyle now, we're complete in indescribable ways, but still, love, just you and me is nice.

5. The Texas A&M campus. The warm sun and the donging bells and, when I visit now, never having to rush to class or rush to study or rush to cure a hangover. When I get to go back, I sit on benches and breathe in the humid air, the air college students never appreciate until five years later when they so rarely get to sit on benches just because.

6. The San Francisco Zoo. I've been going for years and years, as long as I can remember really, and I've seen it in shambles and being slowly rebuilt and from behind-the-scenes at Zoo Camp and on chilly winter days and chillier summer ones. There are so many memories from field trips and visits with my dad when I was out for holidays. There used to be a wolf exhibit, tucked away in a tree-hidden part of the park. You would have to walk up a long, steep hill to get to it, and the wolf was usually hiding, almost always, but sometimes he'd be right up at the front of the enclosure, and I'd squeal and get excited. When I visit San Francisco in December, we'll take Kyle to the zoo, and I'll tell him of the wolf exhibit that is now long gone.

7. The front yard of our house. It's mosquito season, so we have to litter the yard with citronella candles and torches and I still get eaten alive when I go to check the mail, but our front yard is stunning in visual ways and in emotional ones. I've never really detailed how we came about getting our home or all we went through to get where we now are, but it was a long, stressful process. For a very long time, Mike and I were sure our past choices would keep us from ever owning a home. Here we are, though, in our home, with this beautiful front yard. We have red flowers that pop up randomly and without warning, and as I pull in after a long day or look out the window on Sunday mornings, I think, How is this ours? How did I ever get so lucky?

8. My best friend, Natalie's middle-school bedroom. When you've known someone for more than 16 years, you can't even begin to scratch the surface in one blog post or one conversation of all the memories you share. The good ones, the horrible ones, the coming-of-age ones, the heartbreakingly adult ones. I grew up with Natalie and she's seen the very, very worst of me, the kind of stuff that drove others away, and the very, very best of me, the kind of stuff she can take actual pride in because she knows what it took to get me to the light. We used to crank the radio -- Boyz II Men and Offspring and Alanis Morisette -- and sing and try on clothes and talk about boys. I don't know how to articulate how cool it is to look at someone at 27 who watched me greet life at 13 and know, without a doubt, that she loved me then and she loves me now.

9. Anywhere, just anywhere, my son is.

Comments

[Rachel]

We all have Happy Places, and I love reading about people's! :)

[Raven]

The passenger seat of our car(s) is too dangerous of a place with my husband behind the wheel for it ever to be a happy place! I know you feel me on this :)

I am going to do this post today.

[Mrs. D]

This is such a beautiful post! #1 made me cry.

[Kristie]

I love this idea. Bookstores top my list, too.

[Bobbi Janay]

All are amazing it sounds, I agree about my best friends bedroom actually her parents house. I can still walk in with out knocking a be great with a smile, hug and a loving line of questions from her parents.

[Jen]

This is lovely, Jennie.

An aside: I had a baseball-related accident when I was 10, too. I got hit in the mouth with a softball at practice, and the damage required stitches in my lip, manually pushing my two front teeth back into place, and later, oral surgery to install a metal plate to hold my upper jaw together as it healed. Not awesome.

[Jess]

Aww. What a lovely post. What a nice thing to reflect on. And the ending just killed me. I need a child, please.

[Heather]

Sniffle sniffle. Awesome post, as always!

[A'Dell]

Such a nice little list - I love it! Right now though I am focused on an unhappy place: my bedroom where the contents of my closet are scattered about. I'm doing the winter clothes/post baby assessment.

HALP. Send champagne.

[Jen L.]

What a wonderful list! It's nice to stop and count your blessings every once in a while. How sweet that you got to spend those precious weeks with your grandpa.

[Natalie]

I loved recording songs on blank tapes, and listening to them over and over. We really had to work hard to listen to our favorite songs. Just remember not to use me for my Nintendo.

[Dani]

So so lovely - Amelia and I would love to join you for a day at the zoo in Dec.

[Kristabella]

You know, I lived in the Bay Area for 6 years and I only went to the SF Zoo once. I should have gone more. I really enjoyed it!

Also, I wish I could read or so anything in the car when I'm not driving. I get so car sick. That's why I always end of driving on road trips.

[Sarah @ BecomingSarah.com]

This is such a great post idea and it's filled with so many beautiful memories =)

I love that you value those weeks with your grandfather enough to make the injury worth it. I don't think alot of people would think the same way.