Jackson. I can't freaking get away from it. My whole family systematically moves out of Jackson, Mississippi and now they are all going to end up in Jackson, Tennessee. Amazingly enough, I would prefer that they were still in Jackson, Mississippi.
The southern Jackson at least has some really good restaurants. Jackson of the north, not so much. There is my brother's kitchen, but it's only open late, and you don't get to order off the menu. At least I don't have to leave a tip.
The southern Jackson has some of my friends left there. Jackson of the north, none that I know of.
The southern Jackson has boutique shopping. Not that I want anything from the boutiques, mind you. If I wanted to dress like every outing was part of a beauty pageant and even my panties had to be monogrammed, I could do some good shopping in the southern Jackson. There is the Gail Pittman outlet and then crazy woman who sells ceramics out of her garage and donates the money to the nuns. If she isn't home, you just leave your money in a Mason jar. The northern Jackson has 2 Payless Shoe stores. You choose which one you want to go in by how many potholes you would like to swerve around in the parking lots that day.
The southern Jackson would still feel like home. No matter how long I've been gone or how deeply I've planted my roots in North Carolina, the southern Jackson will always feel like home. Jackson of the north feels like my brother has relocated his family to a larger version of the most redneck town he has lived in thus far.
I will have to go to Jackson of the north on a regular basis now. I guess that will be okay since I'm only going to see family. The visits will most likely only consist of doctor visits and errands, so I guess I can't complain. Maybe they have a Krystal there.
Wherever my parents moved, I still need more time in my life. I will be quitting one of my jobs and keeping my piano studio going. It is more flexible and I don't want to lose my students anyway. If they had chosen to come here, I would need the time to take care of them. Now, I will need the time to travel. My brother won't travel. I think that is the unspoken reason that they are going to Tennessee instead of North Carolina. He went to California one time in 7 years to see them. He just won't leave his job long enough to go anywhere. I don't know if it is an inflated sense of self or an inflated sense of responsibility, but somehow, he always ends up being the one to forego vacation and put his family last. There would never be enough money in the world to make me work in a church ever again. I have watched my entire family put the church in front of all else time and time again. I think they even put their church work in front of God sometimes. Ironic.
Guy and I almost bought a painting of Johnny Cash last week at the Loveless Cafe. It was an abstract kind of painting with quips around the edges of "we're going to Jackson." At the time, I found it amusing. Now, not so much.
I hope that my parents have thought through their care and the people with time to give it to them. I have a feeling that when my mother dies, we'll be moving Daddy all over again. She said this morning that she thought she was going to die sooner rather than later. I don't understand then, why she won't go ahead and get Daddy near me where he belongs. Daddies and daughters go together.
I'm going to have to be patient. I suck at being patient.
