Never Gone, and Not Forgotten

Carly Simon’s “Never Been Gone” really nails the feeling . . . Whenever we return to the island, it feels as if everything just picks up continuously from when we left, as if there were just discontinuities in time and space.  During those discontinuities, we live our “normal” lives, going to work, making sure kids get to school, etc.  Now while that is how it feels, it is certainly not reality.  Last Wednesday night was certainly a good example of that.

On Wednesday in Central Massachusetts, we were watching the weather bands progress across the state.  I drove home from work between two of the major storm bands and foolishly took a side trip and did some shopping on the way.  By the time the shopping was done, the second band of the storm arrived, with quite a dramatic light and sound show in the sky, and soaking rain.  With tornadoes known to have touched down in the west of the state, our thoughts were very focused on the literal here and now.  And when the lightning faded away, we were relieved and grateful that all was safe and sound around us.

That is, until we watched the news, and saw that the storm had moved safely to the east of us, but the weather map showed a strong storm directly over Vineyard Haven harbor.  In any kind of bad weather, there’s a sense of helplessness.  But to be away and wondering adds yet another dimension to that helplessness.  We knew all the windows were closed, but had no immediate feedback on whether or not the weather was as bad as it appeared to be, or how the house was actually faring during the storm.

A quick check of the Twitter stream (and Patch!) revealed nothing, so all we could reasonably do (after 11 p.m.) was hope that all was well, as indeed it was.  But the next time “Never Been Gone” came round on the iPod, the difference between the feeling and the reality was a bit crisper.  When you live in two places, you actually are in only one place at a time (at least physically).  And you always wonder about the place where you are not.