Going home has two very different meanings for honey and I. It always has. He sees the depression of the city we left behind. The lack of jobs...of prosperity and progress. I see a slower, peaceful pace. Less traffic. Cheaper buys;)
He sees memories, hard to deal with emotion and sadness. I see sentiment, all things familiar and gladness. It's a weird thing going home. My family is all still there, but Honey's dad has passed, his mom has moved on and it's a little empty for him. I wonder too how will things change when my parents go on to be with the Lord.
But they are here now and I will continue to soak up home like nothing else. It fills me. It makes me feel and I like to wallow a bit in feeling. I'm a sentimentalist:) A tried and true Midwest girl. I know what I love, and I h.e.a.r.t. all things home and country and wide and open.
Memories make me remember who I am and where I came from. They don't just take me back, they push me forward.
How can a packed to the brim car and a fifteen hour drive take me all the way back to the beginning of everything? But it does. Each and every time.
These dirt fields and trees...a house made of glass, wood and old shag green carpet. These people... Every thought, prayer, dream, disappointment, crush, loss, love, whisper of life started right in this spot.
It will no doubt be painful to come back some day. I might cry my way past the lane, but this place will always have a piece of me.
Be a blessing,
my favorite IG captures this week:)
