Thursday, October 29, 2009

Going Home Again

Can you ever really go home again?
Even more importantly would you really ever want to?
An eight day visit with my parents prompted the questions.  My sister feels that she could.  I know that she would prefer not to,  but claims that she could.  For me the answer quickly became no.  I am closer then 10 years ago, but still like my things my way.  

My poor family is probably so traumatized by that fact.  Down to tonight when my daughter started cooking, i pointed out she was using the wrong pot to make quinoa.  I mean really does it matter that much?  in fairness to me she was using the fondue pot piece, but i must confess that any pan, but the one i use would have prompted comment.  I really need to follow Tania's advice and develop a case of the who cares.  ok she used another term, but who cares works better for me.  

But going home again i think is not truly possible for any of us.  Why?  Because after a mere 6 weeks away we are no longer the same person.  To truly go home again implies no growth or change.  I am almost consistently told that Carlsbad would be unrecognizable to me.  A lady getting her hair done by joy at the same time even made the point about the area to me.  So i guess it is true.  Hopefully the beach will be the same though.  But if we are growing and doing the right things would should change as well.  

I know that i have changed from the girl who left her parents home the day she walked in her graduation ceremony from high school.  My parents have as well.  Some, many of those changes have been for the better.  Both for me and for them.  When not going completely psycho or tormented about the whole baby situation i like the woman i have become.  I surely look forward to seeing who my children will become.  So one day in not too many years one of them will come home for a visit and we will both realize that there is no going home again.  I just hope they visit to show me a grandchild and how it has changed since i visited for the birth.  That was the best part of the trip watching my parents delight in my joy.  

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