Traditions

It’s a tradition five years running.  Every summer Rachel and I head to the local drive-in for dinner, conversation and a movie.  We’ve seen everything from Batman to Pirates, but to be honest, we don’t really care what movie is showing.

It’s not really about the movie.  It’s about the conversations.  So much of our lives and struggles and hopes have been poured out in this gravel parking lot.

It’s also about the food.  And the atmosphere.  And lovely summer evenings.  And good drinks. And watching the stars slowly come out and the moon slowly rise.

I’m not going to lie, this summer has been a bit difficult.  A great part of it is the pressures of grad school.  Another part is being a stranger in your own land.  It’s that time of life where my peer group is going through massive changes.  Marriages.  Babies.  Finishing med degrees.  Settling into careers.  Buying houses.  Starting to wear skinny jeans.  And I haven’t been around as these changes have happened.

There’s a disconnect that’s hard to accept.  But in the midst of that, there’s the core group of committed friends.  Friends who love me for better or for worse, and graciously put up with the fact that I’m gone 98% of the time.  Friends who are willing to pour into that friendship even if they see me only once a year.

Friends who give me moments of feeling perfectly at home.  Those moments are few and far between these days.  Not that that fact is entirely negative.  I am constantly reminded that this world is not my true home.

But some nights, it’s just nice to come home.  And to giggle and unwind to the silliness and delight of the cinema.