It wasn’t until I noticed the ring of salt on the top of my camera the day after we got back home to NY that I realized how fiercely I needed to be back in DC.
It was during the last hour of our trip that months of anticipation finally made it over the rim of my eyelid and onto the top of my camera. Desperately needing a few moments with Abe, we walked up to the front of the Lincoln Memorial and I noticed the door open to the exhibit below. In all of my years in DC or my trips to the site, I had never wandered through those hallways, and felt a rather acute desire to discover all that they had to offer.
The chaos of life, the unpredictability of humanity, and the scary headlines in the news as of late have me a little more emotionally charged (or that’s what I’m telling myself) and the words written on the walls echoing the need for equality were more than I could bear. I stood in the chambers below #16, feeling the weight and the sadness and a desperation for peace that I hope will soon come. Scott disappeared from view, either to give me the space to feel my grief, or to disassociate himself from the crazy woman openly sobbing in front of words on a wall.
I say this because THAT is what DC does to me. It makes me feel and express and emote to the very core of who I am. And surrounded by loved ones and dear friends all weekend imprinted an emblem of gratitude on my heart that I won’t soon forget. So. Much. Love. So much friendship.
On Friday night we arrived and immediately took off for date-night. We chose Maketto, and ended the meal incredulous that it took 2 years to set foot in that place. And now that I’m thinking of it, I could really use a little more of their fried chicken in my life. (That date night review coming soon!) We took a detour on the way home and stopped by the Sculpture Garden for Friday Night Jazz, and then took to the new lawn on the mall to lay in the grass and inhale DC. Intoxicating in all the best ways.
Saturday we hung out in Old Town, brunching with our dear friend and wandering our favorite streets. What a trip to be back on the red brick! But it was our DC Minute Happy Hour that takes the cake for the weekend. Saturday night we descended on the patio of Blackwall Hitch with 30 of our incredible friends to relish in one long, overdue reunion. Don’t worry – full recap of that out tomorrow.
Sunday we revisited a brunch favorite – The Warehouse – with our lovely weekend hosts. The food was delicious and the company even better. After our parting goodbyes, it was off for a few last errands and my farewell trip to the Lincoln.
The car ride down we were goofy, flirty, full of excitement and energy. Our trip back? Only a few words exchanged, a mutual understanding that this trip required time to fully process and reflect on the weekend.
However, driving back into our driveway late Sunday night, there was a comfort that I didn’t expect. Ivan bounded down the porch steps to welcome us back, and I slept soundly in my own bed. I’ve decided that feeling “home” in many places works to my advantage, not the other way around. So time to turn my thoughts to all that is front of us here in WNY, and know that I can always have DC.
Cheers and Happy Tuesday, all.