Following My Trails of Breadcrumbs
How is my memoir coming along? I'm so glad you asked.
I’m sitting in my bed with an open page in front of me, not sure how to begin. Nobody appreciates vaguery, but right now I can only say that the past month of my life has been intense, disruptive, disorienting. Yet still I write, sometimes in real time, almost like I am writing my life as it unfolds.
I set a goal for myself to have the first draft of my manuscript finished by the end of August, and I think I may actually be able to make it happen. In just three days, I get to embark on my first memoir travel adventure of the summer. My brother and I will return to Milwaukee for the first time in 22 years; we lived there together during the turbulence of late adolescence, and returning in our forties should be quite the experience.
Several days after we return, I head out on a road trip to Iowa with one of my very best friends and college roommates (we made a pact before leaving for winter break our freshman year of college that when we came back a few weeks later, we would be best friends. That was December 13th, 1996. I’d say we did a pretty good job with our agreement.) She and I will head back to our college town, visit old friends, and she’ll accompany me as I visit the home I lived in when I was born, as well as the house from my earliest childhood memories and one from a much darker era: the awkward devastation of 7th grade. Shudder.
I decided in addition to visiting the two dorms, two apartments, and three houses (!! I told you I have 17 total homes prior to my current one, yes?) in the area, I plan to stop by my old churches and schools. If you asked me months ago why I was doing this, what the point was, the answer would be very different than it is today. I mentioned that when I had the idea for this epic nostalgia pilgrimage-turned-memoir almost a decade ago, the book didn’t know what it wanted to be when it grew up. I think even three months ago, though foggy ideas were beginning to solidify, that assertion was still true. It’s only in the last two months that the crux of it really began to materialize, show itself, beg to be written. Witnessing that unfolding and clarity has been one of the most profound experiences of my entire life.
I thought I wanted to travel back in time, try to recapture what was lost, and search for clues as to why I am the way I am. That’s not true any more, or at least it’s not the point. I’ve always been preoccupied with retracing my steps, following carefully placed (or sometimes recklessly scattered) breadcrumbs that would lead me back to something. I thought all the answers would be found in places, times, even people. And yet as I’ve meticulously overlayed my geographical breadcrumb trail map with one of all my inner trailheads, it finally makes sense to me what I’m writing and why I’m taking these trips. And you guys, I cannot wait to tell you all about it.
At the risk of leaving you with nothing more than a paragraphs-long lump of vagueness and navel-gazing, here are some pictures of the expeditions I’ve taken thus far. My very first trips were when my girls were little—in 2014 and 2015. I didn’t pick up my idea again until 2023, and since then, I’ve had the honor of taking my teenager to visit the condos we shared when it was just the two of us; I’ve returned to the town of my elementary school years with both my parents (what a gift it is to spend time alone with just your parents, no partners or children or even other family members) after we traveled to say goodbye to one of my most beloved family friends; my best friend of 22 years and I went back to the house we lived in together half a lifetime ago (we actually ran into our landlord while we were there and he showed us all around the property where he’s built a magnificent garden. It was a much longer visit than we had planned. . . 😉)
I’ll write again next while I’m on the road in July, and I’ll share more about the nitty gritty of the writing process so far: courses I’ve taken, tools I am using, maybe even an ill-advised glimpse at my old-school sticky note/foam board organizational situation, and how my timeline is evolving.
For now, photos!
Let’s start at the very beginning—the road trip from hell that launched the idea. I went to say goodbye to my “childhood home” (one of many, but the one that from age 13 on served as my home base until 2014) as well as my grandmother’s home before she moved to assisted living. I may have gone overboard with photos, capturing every 1970s carpet and vinyl and every glorious 1990s grey and mauve wall covering in close detail.
I’m not going to lie. I am weeping by this point in writing this post. There is something so beautiful about retracing our steps and going back in time. And yet what I’ve found in these travels, so far (so much more to come!), is that the gifts of this pilgrimage/excavation/reclamation have far transcended anything I could have imagined. I hope you’ll keep following these breadcrumbs with me this summer as I travel, and beyond, as I turn it into my first memoir. Maybe you’ll be inspired to find some trails of your own. ❤️
While we have never even met in person, reading this and seeing the pictures have me in tears. Perhaps your journey belongs to us all? Or beckons for us to take out own? Or perhaps is just the damn fine writing.