It always happens right? You start talking to someone from back home and it hits. The sudden nostalgia for a place you swore you left in the dust. Well, okay, maybe that only happens if you did in fact leave your home town. I don’t imagine it happens to those who stay in one place their whole lives. This morning I woke up from a dream about a cousin of mine and a place in my hometown I haven’t seen for years. And then my aunt called and we got to talking about how my home town has changed in the ten years since I have been there.
Despite my assumption that I would not want to go back, I mean I left for a reason right, my heart is gently tugging me to make a visit. To show my daughters where I used to play on my street, and the park we watched the fireworks in. All the little places I used to hang out and ride my bike to in the summers. My girls don’t ave that where we live, out in the country. Our place certainly has it’s perks. We have a ton of room to run, a creek to play in, trees to climb and our only neighbors are family. But I sometimes wish my girls would get the chance to ride their bikes down the hill for an ice cream, or a blue raspberry slush puppy.
I don’t think either childhood is better than the other, my girls are happy and that makes me happy. I wonder if it comes with age, the inevitable looking back to where I came from. All I know for sure, is that I know have plans to go back. To stay with my aunt and to show my kids where I come from. Hopefully when seeing it through their eyes, it is still the all the good stuff I remember. And I really want a blue raspberry slush puppy now 🙂