I've talked about this perplexing question before, and the more I think about it, the more it becomes a sort of tangled riddle in my head. I like to think that, yes, it is possible to go home again -- that no matter where you go, no matter how many milesaway you are, you'll always be able to find your way back. And when you get back, a piece of home will be waiting for you. Granted, it may be a rather small piece, but it's still there...just waiting for you. It's a comforting thought.Well, apparently, my mom didn't get the same memo I got because we have the exact opposite views on the subject. She never misses an opportunity to whip out the No Going Home card any chance she gets (in her mind, I'm sure she even has it laminated and done up in a beautiful font). I'm her prime – and it would seem only – target these days.
The times I get sad driving by our old apartment?
“Melissa, you can't go home again.”
The times I bought ALF and Smurf stuffed animals on eBay?
“Melissa, you can't go home again.”
The times I yearned to be admitted to the hospital for a pick-me-up bag of I.V. fluid?
“Melissa, you can't go home again.”
You get the idea. Blah. Blah. Blah. Yes, that's all I heard of her responses. Should a phrase so blatantly negative and cynical even be allowed in our pro-memories, pro-positive world? And if, by some chance slimmer, the phrase does indeed hold a kernel of truth? Where does that leave us?
How would you answer this question, friends? Do you think it's possible to go home again? Or are you of the mind that "the past is the past," never to be relived again? Let's chat! xoxo
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