So I am in Salt Lake City for the first time ever. Actually, I’ve never been to Utah at all, although I’ve always wanted to visit, both because all those panoramic exterior shots in Big Love look absolutely gorgeous, and also because I’ve always – and somewhat inexplicably – been something of a Mormon history buff. I’m fascinated by the way the LDS pioneers persevered against unbelievable odds to create their own nation within a nation here in Utah. One thing I noticed right away when I arrived is that people here are exceptionally tidy-looking. And they just exude industriousness. Just being around these people, I feel lazy, messy and inadequate. The Latter Day Saints – both past and present – are fascinating folks, fo sho.
I am sitting here in my hotel room, trying to get a little work done before I go meet up with Jon and Heather to visit and talk about some business stuff. I am really looking forward to seeing them, and checking out their new digs. H is apparently feeling a bit puny today due to a cold, so I may not be able to drag her out with us after our meeting this afternoon (I plan to try though!), but in any event, I am really looking forward to meeting up for dinner tonight with another fave blogger of mine, Monica B, otherwise known as The Girl Who. (Isn’t it kind of weird that Salt Lake City is so loaded up with super-gorgeous, hilarious, more than slightly profane, ex-Mormon girl bloggers? What if Knoxville were all covered up with tall, blonde, cursing ex-Southern Baptist girl bloggers? Yeah – it would be kind of like that.) But anyway, Monica and I , and maybe her hubby are going to take downtown SLC by storm tonight – or at least have dinner and drinks and check out the very fascinating Temple Square – right up the street from my hotel – on foot. (I’ll have to drink Monica’s beer for her though because she’s knocked up. But I don’t mind. I’m happy to shoulder the burden.)
I was feeling very, very, extra sad about Henry yesterday. While traveling to SLC from Knoxville – via Atlanta, I saw so many sweet, healthy 17-20 year old, shaggy haired boys, guitars and duffel bags slung diffidently over their still-growing shoulders, happily striding through airports on their way to college or travel abroad or wherever. I wanted so much to see Henry have the chance to travel, to go to college, to see the world and then tell me all about it. Instead, he’s gone forever for no reason I can quite figure out. I miss him so much that it aches. There’s an ache that just never stops, even when I am otherwise feeling joy or having fun. I brought his journal from his first three months in treatment with me on this trip and I read it last night before I fell asleep. He was such a special, quirky, tortured person. So funny and creative and loving. The world is dimmer without him in it.
Okay, gonna shake off the blues right now and enjoy the day ahead. The Wasatch mountains out my hotel window are beautiful.
