The problem with literary phrases is that sometimes you wish they were true. "You can never go home again," is one that always echoes through my mind. Probably because it's a cliche and that is in the nature of cliches.
I went "home" this weekend, and on the drive out there I could feel my insides unhook, untangle, and I could begin to breathe. I didn't realize I was holding my breath. Just like when you discover you've fallen in love. A long awaited exhale you didn't know you were waiting for. This feeling of relief brought along an anxiety -- this is a place I've moved away from, and that I have to continue to pull myself away from as I grow and expand and as those people who make it home leave (in one way or another).
I'm grateful for the arms around my shoulder, the acceptance that I felt, the knowledge that though change happens in my life, there are those who knew me before who accept it along with me.
I hope that I can build a new home. And I mourn the slow loss of this old.
I love this! I felt the exact same way! Thats why I have that necklace because it's more my home than any place I've lived in the last 10 years. I miss it already. I wrote a poem about it when I went for the long weekend.
ReplyDelete" ... I could feel my insides unhook, untangle," is immediately familiar.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you could visit Rexburg! But I'm also glad that you get to explore new homes. I think people need new homes to grow in - like hermit crabs or things with exoskeletons. You could be a beautiful arthropod!
Fantastic post, SJ.