Returning Home
I’m glad to be back home. It’s comforting and easy, and far away from Wellman Hall and Olson. When I first came home from college, the first couple of times, maybe two years worth, I expected the comfort of the past: the ease I felt my senior year of high school, the comfort of old hang out spots and friends who know you very well and know where you’re coming from. But that isn’t it; that’s not what you get when you return home, and it took me a while to figure that out.
The world continues on regardless of your kicking and screaming. When you return home, you’re returning home to the house built by your parents with your past influences, their own experiences being without you, the influence of your phone calls, and the changes in the world. The house I came home to this Christmas break wasn’t the same one I left, but somehow it’s home all the same.
Categorized as Life