Going Home

Fourteen years out of high school and I awake back in my childhood bed. The bare white walls do not reflect the memories I have experienced in this old house. They do remind me that my mother’s favorite color is white. For a woman of great creativity, she never liked the walls another color. I have always wondered why.

No, I have not moved back home, but I am staying with my parents for an extended stay.  It was time.

I have felt that the past couple of years I haven’t seen them like I should. Life has been too busy, too full of everyday commuting, working, family life and running around like an insane person. The long drive down to my folks place for more than a day or so just never happened regularly. This past year many of our family members have passed away and I felt I needed to rectify my commitment to my family. I needed to make the time for some things that really counted. They needed my help and I needed them. Besides life has small quirks that make all things work out in the long run. My twins have started school where I did. How wonderful and strange.

Besides, we usually regret the things we do not do, over the things that we did do in the long run.

Their place is a two-story box style house that sits on acres of alfalfa, a vegetable garden that isn’t the size of a block anymore, and the animals are all gone but a few chickens. Without cable, internet (I posted this for the local library) or central heat I have found myself back in time. I loved my childhood. Walking late into the night, riding horses down to visit with the neighbors and experiencing breathtaking views under the wide country sky. It’s been great unwinding here. They kids have enjoyed school here as I have enjoyed my parents. I forget how fast of a society we to live in today. I have laughed, conversed, played card games and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of my time here. I hope my children will remember these days with fondness and say to their kids, when are we going home?

When was the last time you went home?