40/365 Bittersweet

I spent this past weekend in Miami helping my father with his charity car show. I love being able to help him and allow him to enjoy the fruits of his labor. But coming to Miami is difficult. 

I love Miami. I love the energy, the excitement, the sounds, the smells, the weather, the food - everything. I love Frankie's Pizza, Wall's ice cream, Big Cheese, Mykonos and the Cereal Bowl just to name a few of my favorite food places. I also love the beach, the Keys, the Everglades and Key Biscayne. I love Vicki, Cathi, Joey, Heather, and my family. 

But Miami is a place of hurt too. For 27 years, there was a place that was a part of my day to day life. It was the place of my childhood and adolescence. It was the place of my adult years and it was where I became who I was. It was where I was married. And it's no longer a place I can go. 

I was dismissed, cast off, told to leave. I was informed I was no longer wanted, that I no longer fit. I was permitted to observes, but not participate. That was just not possible, so I had to separate. I haven't been in that place in years. 

But I miss it. I miss my friends, my past, my identity. 

And every time I visit Miami, it all comes to the surface again. Without fail, something will remind me. I'll drive by a location, it will come up in conversation, something will happen. 

And I'll grieve all over again.