I went on a mini-vacation for Mother’s Day weekend to King’s Island near Cincinnati. It wa a wonderful trip, and I came back… well, not rested exactly (an amusement park is not exactly a restful place), but invigorated, at least.
I think my husband got a little frustrated with me at one point, because I was looking up domain names for a new blog while waiting for he and our son to get off the Racers. I got the “don’t you ever stop thinking about all that?” look.
But the truth is, I lived without constantly writing stuff in my head for a while, and it
sucked, not to put too fine a point on things. Telling me to stop writing is like telling me to stop breathing. It’s probably not possible and definitely not a good idea.
One of the things I was writing about in my head was the fact that communities can be temporary, and that’s okay.
I was in the hotel elevator a lot on Sunday morning. Down for breakfast, back up to change, down to take the kids swimming, back up to get towels, and so on and so forth. Weekend hotel guests are a lot different than weekday hotel guests, I think. Weekend guests are often in town for a wedding, or a graduation, or a funeral, or a family getaway.
There were a lot of smiling nods in the elevator. It reminded me of the scene from It Happened One Night were rich heiress Ellie has her first experience with standing in line, waiting for the showers at an “auto camp” (the predecessor of the modern day motel). It’s as if we’re all tossed into this temporary community of people who are out of their usual routine. Travel can be chaotic and stressful. So we bond a little over the continental breakfast bar thanks to the commonality of all of us being a little bit out of our element.
My grandparents were big RVers after Papaw retired. Each winter, they’d become “snow birds,” leaving their Kentucky home and traveling down to Pensacola or some other warmer location for the winter. Over the years, they developed a schedule to coincide with when their other snow bird friends would be at a particular campground for a few weeks. It was a temporary community, but it served it’s purpose and it was meaningful to them.
I sometimes think of the communities I’ve been a part of, online and offline, that turned out to be temporary rest areas, rather than the permanent settlements I was expecting them to be. I’ve been wrong to devalue them based on that impermanence.
Ultimately, life itself never turns out at permanent as we were hoping.