I’ve just returned from a funeral in Florida. It’s the first time I’ve been back there since leaving several years ago.
Circumstances forced me to reluctantly leave back then. So much hope and expectation was linked with my move to Florida. Returning to Wyoming left much of that behind. I guess I never emotionally said goodbye to Florida.
So, I expected to visit all my favorite places while back in Florida. I expected to experience some of that same hope and the same sense of adventure I originally found there, nostalgically.
Back again, Florida, it was living green, oh so green. A stark reminder of the harsher winter Wyoming light. I recognized flora that I didn’t even know existed years before. The warmth and humidity revived my freeze dried Wyoming skin. It felt good to be back.
But as I walked through those familiar places, beautiful and meaningful as they were, my emotional experience was flat. What I had sought, what I had left in Florida, was gone from there.
So, I’ve said goodbye to two things while in Florida; an aunt who finally came to terms with someone like me marrying the girl she raised, and Florida itself.
Goodbye Rosie. Goodbye Florida.