Tomorrow I will be flying to the left coast to spend a few days with Dad. I do this every few months but I always have some trepidation about it. First, I really HATE crowds and Southern California is wall to wall people. Second and probably the biggest reason is that it is not where I grew up. Instead of finding a comfortable sense of familiarity with it, I find a discordancy when the present does not match up to the memories.
You really can't go home. Why do we keep trying?
5 comments:
I'm the same way. Home is Long Island, but as soon as I get there, I can hardly wait to leave.
Enjoy the time with your dad.
Because you love the people who are there.
I hope you have a great trip! I guess cities "grow up" just like we do, making the memories fade that much more.
I moved back to my hometown and fortunately, it hasn't grown much. The schools have changed and that part seems to have taken some of my memories with it. But all the familiar faces make it seem just the same. I saw my high school english teacher (retired now) in a store yesterday and thought, wow, I am back home.
Oh Mal! What a big question. Makes me sad. I do the same thing. I’m still working on accepting that there is no “base camp” I can return to. Not where my parents are at least. But as long as the memories are good: we can cherish them and know that they are just memories. And love the people for what they are now.
Hope you’ll have a nice stay with your dad. He is lucky to have you. From what I gathered reading your blog: you are there for your loved ones!
Did I just change the subject?
yeah, I know what you mean about spending the holidays somewhere you did not grow up.
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