Coming Home

The trip home is always bittersweet for me. I can’t help but remember mixed memories growing up. It was never rosy nor was it too rough. I can’t say it was just right because I think I’ve weathered some storms that one could not possibly think of going through. Anyway, I am who I am because of what my home in the mountains taught me. And I’ve learned some of my most important lessons here. I continue to learn more.

This particular trip was more poignant than usual because it was for my only brother’s wedding. The holidays are approaching and the wedding was a great time to catch up with friends and family. What I realized though was that despite the size of our extended family, I only hold dear a handful and have no real emotional attachment towards the rest. I say this without remorse nor guilt. I like it this way, part of the process of paring down to the most important. 

I don’t long for home anymore but I go back so I may see it and myself with fresh eyes. It remains familiar but I get to discover new things every time I visit. Same with the family and friends i have kept close throughout the years. Same with me, everyday evolving but still very much the same. 

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