The virginia fall has turned slowly and painstakingly into the virginia winter, so i fled for a real winter that promises below zero temperatures and wind that cuts through no matter how many layers of cloth you wear.
Ohio will always be home. So we packed up the car and went to work, thinking about the drive ahead of us and the miles that will fly under our car. As we were leaving Harrisonburg a little guy in the car in front of us took some kind of offense to our appearance as he gave me a dirty look, turned around in his seat and proceeded to give me not just one, but two middle fingers. He must have learned from a pro. I’m glad all of Harrisonburg doesn’t greet me with the same hasty distaste.
We drove. Through Virginia, West Virginia, across the slow moving Ohio. We were greeted in turn by a drop of 25 degrees and the knowledge that for a moment, just a few hours in fact we would be at home. Driving through southern Ohio brought back memories and memories of memories, as we passed through my birthplace, Washington Court House, through a city where all I can recount from my toddler mind is the smell in Chillicothe, towards Dayton where my family’s old farm is a real estate development and a strip mall. As we passed by the small town turned suburb I nodded in the direction of my grandparent’s graves and kept moving toward life.
Crossing over into Indiana we laughed and sang Queen at the top of our lungs. “Don’t stop me now, I’m having such a good time, I’m having a ball.” Happiness and love filled the car and we held hands and pretended we were 18 again. We have been doing this for 10 years, my love and I, and it never gets old. We drove through the strip malls of suburban Indianapolis and reached the home of my brother and his wife and the newest addition to the Miller clan. She slept and cried and did the things a newborn was to do. And we smiled together at the miracle that takes a view of hope to even attempt to bring a child into this world.
To Cincinnati, the Queen City that will soon be our home. We checked in and got dressed to walk down to our annual Christmas tradition. Over the Rhine greeted us with two sets of great music that more than a couple times caused my bride and I to look at each other and blush with the knowledge that we are still in love.
We left the show and took a left, down to the river front. We walked across a stone bridge to Kentucky. 
The memory of a New Year’s so many years ago came back, that same bridge that same path, the same wanderings of person years older but still finding hope and love in the same things. My lover and I felt the stiff wind that comes off the river. Welcome it seemed to say, welcome home. We walked into the Irish pub and a face I hadn’t seen in years greeted me with a hug and a smile. We drank, we talked, we laughed.
Hope has been the theme and continues to be as the trip carries on. My plans have been changed by a snowstorm in Seattle, but all will be well in its own season. Friends will come and offer me the hope of renewed connection and the joy of memories of the past.
Wishing all an Ohio Christmas, a biting wind to let you know that the season is here. Love, joy and peace friends. But most of all, hope.
reconstruction 