Leaving Home

A few weeks back, before the theme for June had been announced, I had this strong memory come back to me (almost a deja vu).  It was a memory of the time when I finally realized I no longer belonged in my parents house–in the home I had grown up in. 

I was a freshman in college.   Exams were almost done but I had not moved back home for the summer yet.  There was a sense of relief, wonder and excitement at the first year wrapping up.  The pressure was off because I had finished my toughest exams and the last one must have been a paper or something–because I was not sweating it and had relaxed.

It was a beautiful sunny, blue sky.  The air was crisp and slightly warm and sweet.  It was early May in Virginia.  Which can be hot or the idyllic spring.  This was indeed, idyllic.

I arrived home mid-day.   My parents were still at work.  My sister must have been at school and my brother had long since moved out and (I believe) was married.

As I went through the house, nothing had physically changed.  But everything was different.  And the feeling was palpable.  I had a distinct feeling of joy and loss at the same time.  I remember this so vividly because that day-that memory, has stayed with me.  It’s one of the way-points along my life that I remember to this day.

As I walked back out of the house, on to my next destination, heard Thomas Wolfe’s words:  “You can’t go home again”.  It was true for me at that moment.

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