Going "home"...

Awkward since 1980’s all the way...yep that’s me.

Just proving I have been goofy from the get go. Tomorrow I head “back home” after 3 maybe 4 years (I can’t figure out how long it’s actually been🤦🏻‍♀️)

It’s always a bit hard that going home stuff. The going back where the bad memories kindof out weigh the good. This room right here...if those walls could only talk. They would tell you so much about how badly this girl just wanted OUT.

Single Jesus pic glaring down. His eyes always followed me.  I was equal parts terrified and happy about that as a kid. Snoopy and Donald duck piggy banks (empty no doubt) never far. The wedding bell from my great grandparents 50th (I think) wedding anniversary. No clue what is on the wall behind me...I can see a drawing but is it weird that I can’t remember EVER coloring as a child?

I’m sure I did but isn’t it odd that I can’t remember ever holding a crayon? I’m sure one day maybe I’ll remember why I have blacked that one out.... probably because I hate it or something.  Lord knows I can't even draw a stick figure correctly. That pink wallpaper...I begged for that pink paper. Pink was my jam....dresses had to be able to "twirl" and double as capable of me climbing a tree or chasing down a toad.

Those walls were absolutely suffocating. No really,  I get a little panicked just looking at this room. I spent most of my time outside... away. As far away as I could get from the fighting, yelling and unhappy darkness of this house. God bless the 80's when your parents could care less where you were actually at during the daylight hours. Boy could I run.

Even when the parents finally broke up and we moved that fighting never stopped.  Everyone was just miserable and let’s face it we had no other way of knowing how to interact with each other without the yelling. It was our normal.

I absolutely can laugh about it now.  If I have nothing else it’s a joy that comes from knowing just how wonderful my life is now.  How I didn't make that life my forever.

I have a strong appreciation of that craptastic beginning now.  It definitely “built character” but above everything else it taught me I am not meant for that kindof exsistance. It was a choice.

Yep...the running fast and far to the manchild I loved (and still do) was the best thing I ever did. Hunted down my happiness and made it mine. 26 years ago next month...just about the same age as my oldest. I look at my kid and think “How did kid me have that kindof bravery?!?!” The truth probably lies more in the having nothing to lose.

Y’all this kid right here...goofy as hell but tough as nails. Can't wait to visit with the friends and family that remain.  It’s been far too long.

I do wonder if "going home" is this complicated for everyone who has ever moved far away? Sometimes I think it is harder for those of us who leave home and truly become someone 100% different than what the folks left behind remember. You are reminded you have lived several very different lifetimes.

Now to go and finish packing up for a gazillion hours in the car tomorrow. With 3 of my peeps who ALL are my car sick batch.  I am odd man out in this family. The sole non- car sick person. Wish me luck :-) I will be sure to share our adventures over in the story section of the Instagram account!

Happy Easter everyone!!