milestones

I spent my childhood in Mayaro, a rural area of Trinidad. But when I was a teenager, I went to high school in the capital city. During that time, I spent the week living with my grandparents, but on Friday afternoons, a car would pick me up at school and I’d take the two-hour drive south to Mayaro, returning to my parents and the beach for the weekends. On Sunday evenings I’d reverse the journey, going back to my grandparents in Port-of-Spain for school the following week.

On those Fridays, the drive from Port-of-Spain to our home in Mayaro felt interminable, going from city highways, then roads through smaller towns, until, toward the end of the trip, we’d eventually drive through the cocal (pronounced coke-AL), a 13-mile stretch that hugs the southeastern coastline of Trinidad, and winds through thousands and thousands of coconut trees. Once we made it on the other side of the cocal and into the village of Mayaro, I knew that there were only about five miles left until I was finally home. I’d count the concrete milestones embedded in the roadside … one … two … three … four … five. As each milestone passed, I’d become more excited: not long now, I’d think. I’m almost home. And at last, we’d finally turn left onto Sandsucker Road, and into my parents’ driveway.

Last week felt like clearing the cocal. First, the rains finally came: not a lot, not enough to fully alleviate the drought, but enough to drop the temperature, hinting that a season change isn’t as far away as I might have thought. Enough to make the vegetation smell verdant again.

One.

Marcus is currently back in the UK, and this weekend we moved Alex into her own place. She’s still looking for work (and if anyone in Bristol is looking for an entry-level communications professional whose superpower is writing, please let us know!), but her bandmates will be joining her in the UK next week. She’s beginning her adult life.

Two.

Tomorrow, Marcus and I will be meeting with our solicitor to finalize some of the paperwork related to the house we’re in the process of purchasing. In our experience, buying a house in the UK is a much lengthier process than in the US, but this particular bit of paperwork is undeniably progress.

Three.

A friend recently messaged me and asked if I’d found my routine in the UK yet. I thought ofr a second. “Finding, but not found,” I responded, and that’s true.

We’re not yet there. But I’m finally counting milestones.

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