My change of plans upon arriving in Philadelphia was all my doing. I left the former hotel reservations in the trashcan in Alabama. Sometimes things just need to be upended, turned around and I needed a visit home more than anything.
Home, as in my hometown where I spent my first 13 years.
Home, as in where the cemetery holds more memories than any photo album I own.
Home, as in the place where just about every face is a newcomer these days, but old friends are not hard to find.
That’s what I desperately needed – my friends. That and some Italian food!
I had a short weekend but it was packed with quaint little get-togethers in a great little café that serves the best omelets. I wish I could say that we’ve all kept in touch for the nearly 30 years since I moved in 8th grade, but truthfully, we’ve all been on some seriously separate paths. Thankfully, I was welcomed to their 25th High School reunion a few years ago and that is when all of my oldest and dearest friends came rushing back into my life.
It has been almost a lovesick feeling to leave everything you’ve ever known in your younger life, but a great reward to come back, be welcomed, and know that you were missed. And each time I leave, I eagerly await the next visit home.
Living “life on the move” can be hard. As people, we have all hit lows and highs in our life. But the really great thing about spending time back in my hometown with friends is the laughing, the knowing looks, and the understanding you receive from those who know you through-and-through.
My friends – they are my “home.”
Home? Talk about getting a song stuck in your head! The minute I saw the word prompt for today…Simon and Garfunkel started a serenade in my brain. Homeward Bound was the tune so here’s a link for you to listen:
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