May 30, 2009 02:27
Sorry to wax Zach Braff on you, but...
Tonight, I came back to Dallas and moved in for the summer. I was struck with Garden State-esque nostalgia, perhaps a tad bit of discomfort. As I looked around at the high school kids having parties on their lawns and late night crowds filling the local diners, I realized that I no longer quite know my hometown any more, not the way I used to. But a lot has changed, a lot has stayed the same. At any rate, I got to thinking about what home is, and what it means to me. Is it Duncanville, where I've grown up - the house my parents still live in, the streets in which I learned to drive, the first desperate crushes I had, the church where Christ met me and invited me in? Or is it Austin, where I've lived for the better part of 3 years - the city that taught me how to be hip (although I haven't necessarily applied that particular lesson to my own life), where I lost most of my expectations and found hope, the amazing new friends that I made, the independence that I've always craved? But then, what about all the other places that are home to the ones I love, like Houston, Seattle, Ft. Worth, and St. Louis?
Maybe it's all these things. Maybe home has splintered into the hearts of everyone you've ever loved. And maybe that's why it hurts when people leave, because a piece of your home and your history has been uprooted. Maybe it is true, that in some way we get to reclaim a full sense of home when we begin families of our own. I imagine that will mostly content us, but that we will still experience these occasional yearnings for a time when our hearts had anchors and our eyes never had to strain too hard to find our homes.