Got to Charleston in record time on Saturday and proceeded to make the embarrassing classic tourist mistake and drive over the Cooper River bridge. They'll be taking away my citizenship now - but I'm still not used to the new bridge and the old bridge had a handy cut off to East Bay Street that I always used. Ah well; it wasn't hard to turn around and driving over the bridge is cool.
It was a good weekend. The memorial service was lengthy and moving and I only knew two people there; one of whom didn't remember me and one of whom I didn't manage to speak with. It's been a long, long time since I lived in Charleston and even though I still sort of think of it as home, it isn't, really. Not anymore. Thinking about that and all made me sad, but then we got on out to Folly and everything somehow was worth it. Several long walks on the beach; a fried seafood platter at Bowen's Island and brunch with two old close friends West Ashley: it was pretty much a perfect two days. Now I'm exhausted as I always am after a road trip but a lot got ironed out, somehow, this weekend, and I feel better. Or I will when I get some sleep. But in the meantime, though, there's some kind of closure now on a whole bunch of levels.
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