I spend yesterday in my hometown.
I drove by my old house, walked the downtown streets, visited an old favorite local store, hiked one of the coolest trails at the state park. I drove past my old school, my old church, and the library where as a child I spent countless hours devouring books. I walked through the downtown square where "concerts in the park" were held. This town holds so many memories, mostly good, some bad.
As we pack up to leave this place I feel sadness rush over me. It is strange. I have a huge lump in my throat and an ache in my heart.
And as I try to analyze my sadness I realize that maybe it has something to do with me wanting a place to call home. I'm not talking about just a house, I already have one of those. I'm talking about the whole shebang. A town, a community, a church who really knows me, loves me, and encourages me, a neighborhood of friends.
I always feel guilty when I say this...but I think that moving several times as a child really had an effect on me. As a result of my nomadic life I have not felt secure. I miss my old towns and rarely go back to see them. It's as though once my family would move away that place was just erased...gone.
Anyway, I hope I am able to work through these feelings further. I know that driving out of town is going to be difficult and I honestly didn't expect that it would. I guess I've learned a thing or two in the name of self-discovery this weekend.
Our old house-
The library-
Hiking at the local park-
The beautiful scenery-
