You Can Go Home Again

This has been one of the nicest visits home. My parents have been doing a lot of work on their house which is looking really nice. My mom and I have had lovely long chats. I might almost think she's missed me. The kids have been sweetly taking advantage of their grandparents who are loving every minute of it. My mother has been taken by the "babymoon" and has spent a lot of time holding Bridget. The only thing that bothers me about these trips home is that we have so much to do, so many people to see, and not nearly enough time. I can't believe that it's Sunday already and tomorrow we'll go back to Minnesota. As much as I wouldn't want to live in California anymore (due to just the price of gas!) it's still home, and it feels strange leaving. Here I know where every street leads, and I can get off the freeway and easily find my way home. Here it smells different, it sounds different, there is a different electricity in the air. Minnesota isn't better or worse, it's just not where I grew up. I miss California burger joints and cars with Our Lady of Guadalupe spray-painted on the back. I miss 90 degree days followed by a week of rain. I miss never having to worry about getting your car out of the snow. While there's plenty I don't miss, I'm feeling nostalgic at the moment. This visit has been so lovely, I suppose what I'm really enjoying is just the feeling that I can go home again. That there is always a place where people know me and know my children. I think as long as my parents live in this house there will always be a part of my spirit that's still allowed to be a little girl. And I like that.