There’s Just Something About Home

Maybe we all feel it when we go to that place that we once called home?  That bitter-sweet pang of nostalgia.  That transporting back to a time when life was different, simpler.  It seemed everywhere I went, I was met face to face with memories from long ago. In the morning, my feet ran the same hills that I ran so many times throughout my childhood.  City streets and country back roads where my closest friends and I bonded through sweat and exhaustion.

A trip to the small grocery store around the corner from ‘my’ house produces an immediate lump in my throat as I envision the form of my Mom standing in that line like I know she did thousands of times throughout my childhood. A visit to the park down the road plays a movie in my head of the years I spent with teammates and friends as we lingered after cross country practice talking, laughing, and becoming the people we’ve become.  Evenings spent on the deck at my Dad’s house transported me back to the countless evenings I spent there with my Mom and Dad just talking as my teenage years rolled into my young adult years.

I realize that as years move forward, some memories fade, while others are cemented in my heart, part of the fabric of who I am.  These memories from long ago are important and a reminder of the things that are most important.  I remember the people and the way these people made me feel.  I remember the time we spent–whether running on the roads of my small hometown or lingering on the deck of my parent house in simple conversations.  These simple things are the foundation of life–not the successes, the accolades, or the “events”.  It was the people–and the time spent together.

This bitter-sweet nostalgia was a good reminder for me.  A reminder that we are building a foundation for our kids now.  I was reminded that the foundation doesn’t have to be built “big” it just has to be built strong.  Our trip “home” appeared to be nothing spectacular on the outside, but the conversations, the simple time together. . . that was special.

. . . and realizing that the water was warm enough to jump into at 5:30 in the morning, so jumping in fully clothed. . .

The laughter, the smiles. . . these are memories that will be concreted in my heart, and hopefully theirs.

Stopping for donuts on the way home. . .

. . . and realizing we had switched Chanelle and Meadow’s dresses around. . .

Visiting my favorite park and watching my kids play under the same canopy of trees where I spent many of my childhood days. . .