A return

A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest ... shapes it, renders it, loves it. - Joan Didion 

Two weeks ago I flew back to Spartanburg for the Hub City Writers Project's 20th anniversary celebration, an event I wouldn't have missed for the world. It was a family reunion, a warm Hub City embrace that I could soak in and bring back with me. A reminder of my second home, of the place that built me.

I started in Saluda, North Carolina. I met Erica on the Green River, where she was paddling. Her friends followed and said I should get in, and, believe me, if I hadn't been pregnant or it hadn't been late evening, I would have gladly strapped in. She has jumped into this wild life on rivers, learning a language of water and rocks that I envy. But I chose my escape as long hikes on challenging trails because all I needed were my legs and map; she has the advantage of living five minutes from the river, of playing every afternoon, of diving in with her whole self. She is wild, and it is right.

We took a quick hike at twilight to a group of boulders on the river, a place with a name I can't remember. It was a tease, my only taste of the mountains for the trip, but I savored the sound of water, the presence of my friend in the old growth, the familiar comfort of nature.

The next morning I had time only for a quick drive to Lake Lure for an extra dose of the Blue Ridge before heading down to meet Helen for lunch. The curve on 26 that opens up into the Piedmont felt so familiar, yet it was like the first time I remember seeing it from the Uhaul five years ago when I moved. Welcome home, it said. Because though my heart is in Hutchinson, my soul lives in the Blue Ridge, perched on an outcrop with the world rolling out before me. This range is where I came alive, and this range is where a core piece of me will always live.

Helen and I had a lovely but brief lunch on the porch at Middlewood, catching up before she left for Charleston and I stayed over in her home. Then Erin and I spent the afternoon at Starbucks, falling into our office wife familiarity and making me long for more of this real talk in real life. The next day it would be the same with Corinne, who I met for breakfast at Betsy and John's with Emily, and later walked downtown with, talking about writing and life and dreams like we used to. For a break before the events, Betsy, Corinne, and I walked John's trail from their house along Lawsons Fork Creek to some shoals and sat with our feet in the narrow rush of water for a while, a feeling I wanted to bottle up because of the people and the place and the sound and the day. And the next day, Sara, who when did this beautiful double take when she saw me because she didn't know I was standing right next to Corinne and that I was waiting patiently to hug her, too. And Eric and Patrick, even though I only got brief hugs and not talks. It was this beautiful series of reconnections with friends like there had been no separation--of time or distance. It was both refreshing and emotionally exhausting, an overwhelm of love and laughter and wonder at these people who helped shape me and who, to this day, give me peace knowing they're out there.

The events themselves provided more reconnections with Hub City and HUB-BUB friends. I loved watching their eyes dart between my own and my stomach, distracted until I said "I'm pregnant" and they could say "oh!" and tell me congratulations. I loved the sweet readings, the reenactment of the "napkin" scene in Morgan Square Coffee with Betsy, John, and Gary, the familiar Bookshop and ambience of Main, the Cakehead girls and beignets, the easy sense of community at the street party, the long vowels that still swim in my ear, the honest disbelief or frustration when I said I didn't want to know the sex of my baby, the truth of the "Betsy Teter as Spartanburg's mob boss" skit at The Latest Thing in Spartanburg with Tim Giles, the chance to share how Spartanburg changed my life and influences much of what I now do and hope to do in Hutchinson, the familiarity and innovative spirit of HUB-BUB, the Denny's building rising above all else, and the ease of getting lost on dark, winding roads at midnight.

Though I lost one of my favorite Nikes to an animal who snatched it from the porch where it was drying and one of Helen's cats peed on my pants on the floor of my guest room, I loved waking up to the solitude of Middlewood, to the fat squirrels at the feeder and the rhododendron lining the start of the trail. The whole weekend went too quickly, but I don't think I could have emotionally stayed much longer. By Sunday morning at the brunch when former writers-in-residence gave their tributes to Betsy--which she was not expecting--I began weeping, caught up in the truth of it all. I wish I could reprint everything they said, but it was a refrain of how Betsy taught us love, determination, and commitment to place, how she believed in us when we didn't know if we believed in ourselves, how she has built this series of writers (plus me) how to relate to and participate in our communities all over the country. It was true, over and over, and all I could say when it was done, through tears, was "You know I feel all of that too" to Betsy as I hugged her.

And then that was it. And now I don't know when I'll be back because next time I'll have a little one. But one day that little one is going with me to meet all of these people and places that his/her mother carries with her every day. One day the little one will walk to the haha with Helen, plop down with a book and a cupcake in the back corner of the shop, pull Erin's cats' tails, run in the backyard with Will, stare in awe at John and Betsy's wall of books, splash in Glendale Shoals, and step to the edge of the summit of Looking Glass and Black Balsam Knob and Sam Knob and Tennent Mountain and stretch out his/her arms to the sky to feel the power of unfiltered life, of unlimited possibility.

The Green River

with Erica on the Green River

Gary, Betsy, and John recreating the beginning of HCWP

The Lit Crawl champagne toast at The Sandwich Factory

with Corinne

with Emily and Corinne

with Gary

on Main Street watching improv at the street party

Betsy Teter (Tim Giles) as Mob Boss, The Latest Thing in Spartanburg

Talking about the influence of Betsy and Spartanburg on my work in Hutch

Betsy, a true hero for writers and community builders like me

Emily, Patrick, Eric, and Corinne giving their "Heavens to Betsy"

with Sara and Corinne

with Corinne, Brad, and Will (who gave me the necklace and told me Happy Mother's Day on my first Mother's Day)