Home. Nostalgia. I think of You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe. Can you? Is home ever the same?
It seems I only go home for death and funerals. I had a trip planned with my ex where we were going to visit my family for fun. Instead, this weekend I am going home because of my sick aunt. I am very worried about her and sad. It brings up a lot of memories.
I haven’t been home in several years. I haven’t had the money or time off from work. Now I do.I need to go. I think I need it not only for my aunt but for me. I need to clear my clouded head. I need to feel love and support from my family. I need those familiar people who know what a screw up I am but love me anyway. Those people who will hug me and laugh and cry with me at the same time. Who understand my tears. I have so many. I am a crier and they know it. I can cry on a dime. They know I’m a tender-heart and admonish me for it but know it is who I am. They know all of my hurts and know that I’m scarred and blemished and that is what makes me Amy. And I can’t help it.
I need home right now. My heart needs it. My head needs it. My soul needs it.
I think that while everything will always change, home will always be home.