Coming home, the flood gates up, the river swells, stirring memories buried under the years of living abroad. It never fails each and every time I come home- Memories are recalled, explored and seen anew. More often than not, it is as if I am walking along the shore of who I am collecting seashells from my past.
And then someone I haven't seen in a long time sails by, I do a double take, "Isn't that so and so?"… and with that the memory of that person comes to the surface, along with anything, everything that was attached to it: High school, after a football game, driving around town which we called, "tooling", late night kissing… up bubbles laughter.
Or someone mentions someone I haven't thought of in thirty years, and just like that another memory that was buried at the bottom of years gone by comes to surface.
Coming home stirs the who, what, where, when– bringing my past flooding forward like a piece of driftwood weaving in and out of the current. The waters surge around me, billowing me up and down, gracefully through with a few snags. It is a journey in chartered waters but one that surprises me, as the landscape has changed. Those who have lived here have seen the coming and going of old friends, have witness each other lives taken shape with age, love, careers, children, disappointments, dreams and those moments that count the days gone by, creating a collective journey within the circle of life that holds them.
The river takes me back to the small rural town, close family, shared community: Homeland.
I am part of that, but no longer part of that, those memories, stories, collected gathering of shared experiences become washed over with distance, time and another culture and place. Diluted, misplaced, overload, forgotten… though when I come back the ripples touch my shore… I never know what will come to the surface, be unearthed, it is a treasure chest covered with barnacles, seaweed and so easily embraced.
What will stir reflection?
Allowing a piece of me to come back,
hold my hand,
or
take my hand,
regardless where I am:
Standing on the shore, or setting sail.
Leave a Reply