I’m going home tonight. When I say “home”, I mean London, where I spent the better part of my life growing up. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been back. My mom moved to B.C. shortly after I came to Ottawa and slowly but surely, everyone just moved away. The more settled I became in Ottawa, the less reason I had to return to London. I’ve gone several times to visit briefly with Christina (which is reason enough) but I really haven’t spent any quality time there in almost ten years.
Dawn and Josh are getting married there this weekend and their ceremony is being held in the neighborhood where most of my time in London was spent. I finished elementary school there. I started high school there. I had a crush on the boy next door there. I said goodbye to my grandmother there. I had countless birthday parties and some of my favourite holidays there. I made friends and lost friends there, and I even found and lost my self there a couple of times. Really, I grew up there. I was sad to leave and am apprehensive about going back. Nervous almost.
It’s not home the same way Ottawa is home or the way the canal in the winter is home. It’s not home the same way being in Steve’s arms is home or the way Christina, Russ or Joanne are home. It’s not home the way hearing Tugger first thing is the morning is home or my Saturday morning runs are home. But it is one of the first homes that I’ve ever known and such a large part of my memories growing up. And now I’m going back…ten years later…a different person from when I last saw it.
They say that it’s never too late to go home. I guess we’ll see.
Dawn and Josh are getting married there this weekend and their ceremony is being held in the neighborhood where most of my time in London was spent. I finished elementary school there. I started high school there. I had a crush on the boy next door there. I said goodbye to my grandmother there. I had countless birthday parties and some of my favourite holidays there. I made friends and lost friends there, and I even found and lost my self there a couple of times. Really, I grew up there. I was sad to leave and am apprehensive about going back. Nervous almost.
It’s not home the same way Ottawa is home or the way the canal in the winter is home. It’s not home the same way being in Steve’s arms is home or the way Christina, Russ or Joanne are home. It’s not home the way hearing Tugger first thing is the morning is home or my Saturday morning runs are home. But it is one of the first homes that I’ve ever known and such a large part of my memories growing up. And now I’m going back…ten years later…a different person from when I last saw it.
They say that it’s never too late to go home. I guess we’ll see.
2 comments:
I was happy to see your post tonight and am curious about what feelings the home coming brings. Going home again is sometimes a wonderful thing. Jim
Embrace the journey. I've had my own bittersweet moments of going 'home' again. It will certainly bring back fond memories, but more than anything, I've found that it solidifies in yourself how right now is. That every piece of your journey has brought you to the place you are now, the person you are now. Hopefully there is no place you would rather be! Enjoy the time of reflection, and resolve to make the most of each moment you are given.
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