This is home

(For the soundtrack to this post click here)

The song, Home from Sheryl Crow, was featured in one of my favorite movies, No Looking Back. The movie has several things going for it (not least the killer combination of Ed Burns and Jon Bon Jovi) but also touches me deeply in the storyline, which I feel has some level of analogy to my own life. And it’s one of the hardest things about being “Home” in Minnesota this week. Sure, there is the elation of the Fair and the fun of catching up with family and friends, but it’s not so simple as a happy joy-ride through a happy past. To me it is more of a re-visiting of the past, much of which is somewhat melancholy.

Home is where my marriage broke up, where my ex-husband still resides. Home is where I lived when my beloved grandparents died. Home is where I spent time when my career path was unclear and seemed to be going nowhere. Home is where I have struggled with the fact that my views about the world have changed, leaving me sometimes out of place in my own family. Home is where the broken heart is.

I get this feeling like people are not supposed to talk about these things. Like we are supposed to treat home as a sacred place where all happy memories and feelings lie. I find when I am home, I need to pull away from all of the memory lane activities, pull away from the fun and bustle and have some quiet time and space to nurse my wounds. I suspect this is a good thing but it’s also a hard thing. It’s for this reason that I am taking a separate week off next week to recover from “Home” over at the oceanside where I can walk quietly on the beach and think about life and the way it develops.

I’m sorry to be a bit melancholy today. Having travelled a long distance at a significant expense, it’s hard to find that the “rewards” of the trip are not exactly as expected. As much fun as home can be, I think I know why sometimes people leave their home town and don’t come back. I don’t live here any more, and sometimes I get this hint that I don’t belong here any more either. Who says you can’t go home? Maybe they were right. Or maybe it’s just not home anymore.

4 responses to “This is home

  1. I’m very touched by this post. I understand.

    I don’t even have “home” anymore – in the sense of having so little family left, none of whom are living where they originally lived.

    I’ve just watched John go through something similar. His mum had her 70th birthday celebration recently, in Swindon. ALL of her siblings were there. John should have just revelled in the family reunion. But I found him, upstairs and alone in the family home, looking very sad. Then I realized what could be wrong. His father wasn’t there. He had died in ’97. “Home” isn’t the same now.

    Anyway, OF COURSE you can – and SHOULD – talk about it. Even if you’re “talking” is done through your blog.


  2. Janet, thanks so much for the support and for reminding me that I am not alone in feeling like this! I was so teary-eyed all day yesterday because it just all felt different than I was expecting. But I wouldn’t trade it for not having come back, as painful as it can be. I guess that’s another part of the mystical thing that is ‘home’.

  3. Nice post. I think a lot of people feel conflicted about the place they grew up. And I do think home is however you define it. For me, it is where my bed and stuff are. And where I know I’ll find what I like in the refrigerator.

  4. Pingback: Minneapolis update « Not From Around Here

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