My Own Private Delaware

I was in Delaware this weekend for my cousin Chip’s wedding. It was a short trip that was filled with family.  It was great to be home, and the trip was such a whirlwind of festivities and fun, that it wasn’t until I was seated in the plane, gazing out the window and looking down at Delaware that the emotions began to flood over me.  I’ve looked at Googlemaps a bunch of times, and I analyzed the different neighborhoods, houses, and land, but I’d never flown over the state before. I was suddenly struck by the fact that I no longer live in the Delaware Valley.

Easter 1987There are moments in life where you reconcile your past life with your present one.  I looked down at my house in Darley Woods and looked back, as I replayed the moments my brother and I explored the forest as kids.  We climbed in storm drains, caught tadpoles, and found a rock that we swore was a diamond and would most definitely make us rich.  Then there was Ashbourne Swim Club, where I was a good swimmer, and the little league field off I-95 where I was a not so good baseball player.  Then Concord High School, where an angsty sixteen year-old played Dashboard Confessional in his Chevy Cavalier and thought that the education system was designed to make people slaves to the man.

Throwback Photos-2I remember all of the versions of Michael who grew up in Delaware and I smile – especially at the self-loathing teenager.  “Yes,” it will be amazing to see any R-rated movie you want to, and “Yes,” it will also suck when you have to pay your credit card bills and wonder where all your money went.  I look back at the Michaels in Delaware as a twenty-eight year old adult.  It’s suddenly apparent that I’ll be 30 soon and not only will my childhood be gone, but so will my early adulthood.

It’s also when I’m thousands of feet in the air that I remember one of my favorite books growing up, Winesburg, Ohio.  My favorite part was the end where the reporter, George Williard, gets on the train to leave his town and thinks about the small things, the people and places that touched him, and he’s reminded that the town he grew up in was the background needed to paint the dreams of his future.  Delaware is one of those strange, small places that I’m happy to call home.

This entry was posted in memories, Travel and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to My Own Private Delaware

  1. mike tomassetti says:

    I am a complete stranger to you but I did want to leave a comment. I Googled my name to see what came up about me but I came up with you. I enjoyed reading about your reflections and the things you remembered and were touched by. I often think back to my childhood and the good times with family and friends.Thirty is young enjoy the next chapter in your life. If you get tired of what you are doing consider being an author, you have a knack.
    Mike Tomassetti it is spelled right.

    • Michael says:

      Thanks Mike! Truly appreciate your comment. Interestingly enough, the original spelling of “Tomasetti” did have two Ss. My great-grandparents decided to drop the other S at Ellis Island. Good ol’ Americanization. My grandfather actually changed his name from the Italian Raimondo to Raymond.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>