Yes, you can go home again. Just returned from a visit to “the country” as we like to say. A place where childhood memories are sketched forever across my heart. Childhood memories can be special or they can be burdensome. That is the one unique thing that plays a huge part in what we call our special self. This weekend return took me back in time. A time when I thought the world in which I lived and grew up in was the most special place on earth. As I entered the house, I walked around reliving times that are vivid and joyful. I entered the living room and remembered those days when our family would sit together watching television. I moved on to the bedroom and remembered feeling safe and secure in my bed with the warm covers that included quilts my grandmother and other ladies in the community had created together consisting of a multitude of colors and fabrics. I remembered waking to the aroma of bacon cooking in the kitchen, coffee brewing, and biscuits in the oven. The most special of all was actually entering the kitchen to the smiles on the faces of my mother and grandmother greeting me as I entered with my long flannel pajamas. These are smiles etched in my memory forever.
I remembered our family sitting on the porch together watching the cars pass by and waving to all because they would usually be family or friends. We would sit and watch the frogs hopping around or listen to the bugs fly about while the radio played nearby.
Going back home was a terrific weekend getaway. It was a time to reunite with family and friends. A time when we could reminisce together. We sat on the porch in the rocking chairs looking out at the grass where we ran around playing hopscotch, ball, hide and go seek together, and chased butterflies so many years ago.
During this weekend reunion we promised to stay in touch – to keep our roots together. This special weekend of reuniting, we laughed and talked together, ate delicious meals together and held onto each other with the full knowledge that we each carry a responsibility to protect our heritage, to love each other and to stay connected. This would continue to be done via our family reunions, visits back to our childhood homes, social media and any other tool that assists with this mantra.
Yes, going back home is different now. The childhood home doesn’t feel the same. There is sorrow now. Mom and grandma are now buried in the family cemetery a few miles away. The house is quiet. The serenity is not joyful. But holding fast to those precious times keeps the memories alive – in our hearts. These are the moments, the precious moments that we cherish. With each passing day, we make new memories and hope that when our children revisit their childhood homes they too will experience the joy and happiness of remembering a special time in their lives.
Sorrow never fully leaves but happiness conquers all. So going home again creates new moments – the stuff life is made of!