The Pilgrimage

Mom and Dad were raised in a world of protestant, upper class, white privilege. At 21 years old they married, headed west, and never looked back. Life was an adventure. Mom and Dad had no intention of repeating their past, but they didn't have other role models to learn how to build a future, so they made it up as they went. All four of my grandparents shook their heads in shame and disbelief at their blatant disregard for the generational wealth they abandoned.

To further enhance the scandal, they divorced in 1976, just two years after women were allowed to open a checking account, leaving their three young daughters to be raised in a truly unladylike fashion. Dad was an active alcoholic and drug addict and Mom had numerous overnight male visitors. We rarely lived anywhere longer than a few months. At least three of the homes we lived in were without running water or electricity. There was a year on a commune.

When Dad's favorite first cousin died and he wanted to go to the funeral back in his hometown, I agreed to join him. Together we traveled to say goodbye to his beloved Cuz. It was a quick trip at only 2 days, but a beautiful opportunity to see my parents from a new perspective.

As I'm wont to do when traveling to sacred places, I filled a small glass vial with menstrual blood and fresh rainwater. Dad, always up for an adventure, agreed to drive me to meaningful locations to deposit the healing elixir on the land of my ancestors.

We went to a school, a church, a cemetery, houses of my grandparents, and more. One particularly impactful spot was Mom's childhood home. The Big Event in Mom's life was the death of her baby sister when she was 8 years old. Mom mourned her loss alone as a young girl, while Nana suffered severe depression and unfathomable grief. We drove to the house where Mom's sister was conceived and lived her short life in utero. I gave homage to the screened porch and deck off the master bedroom where Mom described watching Nana sit, comatose, and was instructed not to speak to her for months.

Next, Dad and I toured the childhood haunts of his younger days, before I existed, before he was who I know him to be now.

"That's where Doug and I threw a cherry bomb into the neighbor's pool."

"That's where I made out with Margot."

"That's where your mom and I got married."

"That's where I went to elementary school." "That's where I had french fries for the first time."

And more.

Most surreal of all was when I found myself at The Club, walking down the elegant and pretentious staircase with Dad. I couldn't help but imagine; what would life have been like, to have Dad proudly holding me as a debutante, introducing me to society at 18 years old? Would I have joined my older sisters at the prestigious all-girls HB and would I have watched them intently, as I have in every walk of life, learning how to be a woman of society? Would Nana and Granny have taken us to lunches and shopping? Would Mom have gotten my hair done for dances? Would I have married rich and inherited wealth, blissfully unaware of the financial pressures needed to survive in today's economy? Would I have been one of the women I'm meant to go back for?

The beloved cousin to which Dad was saying goodbye had 3 daughters of his own. He lived the life parallel to Dad as a prominent lawyer who was pulled into family business decisions. I share a special kinship with the alt-sister trio. The young ladies share our same last name and the same breeding and ancestry. Our upbringings couldn't have been more different and I haven't had a conversation with them longer than an hour, yet I am connected to them. Maybe it's the three sister bond. Maybe it's the family background. Maybe it's our similar roles, despite our radically different childhoods.

This month I recognize the irony of how Sister's life is taking her back to the same city from which our parents escaped. Apparently the city holds unfinished business for her. How will she be welcomed to this foreign but familiar territory, given the challenges she faces? I feel solace that the land holds my sacred witchy healing vibes as she prepares her move.