baby / family / myself

Home Again and Back

It is strange to come home as an adult.

Abraham and I are visited my parents and family in Florida last week. It is, of course, always good to see everyone, but the place doesn’t feel like home anymore. That’s a sure sign I’m an adult. My home is where I live with my husband and children.

My parents no longer live in the house I grew up in or even the house I lived in after college. I don’t have a room here; Abraham and I are sleeping on Noah’s (my little brother who lives at home) mattress on the floor. That’s a sure sign I’m an adult; there is no physical place for me here.

Many of my best friends have moved away, and some of them have returned or live close by. I visited with them, met their children, heard about their love lives. Sort of like high school, but Abraham gave me a 7pm curfew. I never had a curfew in high school.

We flew down with my sister, who visited but for less time than we did. We flew back alone. And I was sick (103• fever when I got back to my house…). How I lived I don’t know. But I have no shame after lying around with Abraham on the nasty floor of the Atlanta airport during our layover.

Since we’ve been back to our home, I’ve been sick. First strep throat and now a killer cold. All I really want is to be back home with my mom, watching soap operas with her, playing cards, using that weird wooden lap desk to catch up on school work, and drink-eating lipton tea from a packet. But I can’t go back. Even if I put myself in the place and did all the things, I can’t go back.


9 thoughts on “Home Again and Back

  1. So very true. People change, places change, circumstances change, WE change — constantly. As much as sometimes we think we want to, we can never go back to an earlier time in our lives. It’s all happenin’ right now, baby! xoxoxo

  2. Well said dear friend. It was wonderful to see you while you were here – and your beautiful family too. My parents still live in my childhood home, but it still not home – seems less like home every time I go.

  3. Hi and thanks for stopping by my blog today. I have exactly the same feeling when I visit my mom back at “home”. She now lives in a house I’ve never lived in and quite far away from where I grew up, so I have no homey lovey feelings when I stay there. On the opposite side of things, my aunt and my uncle have lived in the same house for almost 40 years and I love to visit them there. There’s something always welcoming about their place. I hope to have some a welcoming place for my kids when they are grown-ups, so they always feel welcome to visit.

    • I actually subscribe to your blog on Google Reader. 🙂
      It is such a funny thing, growing up. I keep waiting to really feel like an adult, but I only get it in small bits here and there…

  4. I live very far from my parent’s home now. It’s been more than 10 years. But still there is my home too, though i don’t live there any more. I still go back there when I have chance and what I love is not only the house but also my home town food 😀

    If you don’t mind please visit my blog and I will be more than happy if you are willing to share some thoughts 🙂

  5. I know just how this feels even though my home is only an hour’s drive East. It’s true – this is one of those “you know you’re an adult when” things.

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