Not that I'm part of "sober circles" but I'm hip to the lingo, and one of the terms that is thrown around is "pulling a geographical." This refers to the idea that alcoholics—or anyone really, it's not necessarily a sober thing—are haunted by their past, and they feel the desire to physically get away from the places and locations that literally remind them of their mistakes. I get the sense that the overarching belief of alcoholics is that this doesn't work, that you can't escape, no matter where you are, and instead you need to own it, embrace it, use it to live your life better, or something like that, I dunno.
I've been thinking about this idea as I once again explore certain corners of this vacation town, and how there are certain memories that have seeped into these geographical crevices and come back to me as I retrace my decades-old steps. Take this water park, for instance. I'm here with my kids, all three of them for the first time (Sophie now being old enough to want to touch water and float in a pool with the assistance of her grandparents), the middle kid crushing the medium-sized tube slides, everyone riding the lazy river not so lazily, standing under the big bucket at the splash pad as the water pours down upon us.
I've been here before. The same time of day too—the morning. Almost inconceivable, the idea of showing up at the water park in the PM hours. I used to come here one morning every year, with my sisters and dad and all my cousins and uncles. This same water park, even when we were vacationing in a different shore town for a decade or so. I wrote this blog post six years ago about an incident that happened maybe 30 years ago, and this water park was the next scene, unwritten. I remember my cousin Mike in this same lazy river, the currents threatening to pull him away as we all tried to exit the river, everyone laughing and joking at it as it happened. The same scene played out again today, my oldest holding onto the same concrete barrier, the currents pulling at her slender frame, her sisters and cousins giggling at the sight.
I'm not "pulling a geographical" because I'm not trying to escape it. It only feels slightly like being haunted, but the ghosts are innocuous.
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