Ohio

Thanks to Microsoft, I was out of touch with several people -- hotmail, without telling me, and without me telling *it*, decided to dump all mail from people who use aol, yahoo, or gmail. That included my sister in Ohio.

Gotta remember -- since moving to Alaska, I've rarely used a telephone. Alaska was the leader in wiredidity, and with the time difference, etc., it's just always been the way I've been able to keep in touch. Yesterday she replied to my new e-mail address, so when I get back from SC, I'll be going there.

Ohio holds no fond memories. I spent fifteen years of my youth there; fifteen years that would make Tennessee Williams cringe. However, there were people in Ohio that made sacrifices for me, and it's those people I have to find, just to let them know that those sacrifices were the reason I'm not in prison or dead.

One of those was the aforementioned sister. She bought me my first trumpet, which of course led to the scholarships that got me out of that hell-hole. She also looked out for me and gave me strong support when nobody else was watching.

Then there are two music teachers, one from high school, one from college, that I want to find, just to say "thanks." They were the first adults to treat me with respect, ever. And again, thanks to them, I was able to climb out of the slime that was and is Ohio, and to realize that I was not what other people told me I was.

Going to Ohio is like visiting a cemetary. Something in me forces me to go back there every time I'm in this part of the world, and every time, I become filled with a sense of mourning. I just stare at the small, simple headstone, trying to find something of value in those memories, but the sense of loss overwhelms all else.

But I'm going back again. And I'll go back again. And again, time after time. Even if everyone I knew there moved away, I'd still have to go back. I truly, truly hate that fucking place.