I recently had a business trip that landed me at my sister’s door. This is not an unfamiliar door considering she and her husband live, and raised their family, in the house in which we grew up. I’ve been in and out of the door since the age of seven. Time and tides took me away and the moss grew on the north side of the trees, the small-ish houses were turned into big-ish houses and the lake community grew.
I went down to the lake, and took a few pictures, and one was really funny. I inadvertently took a photo of a group of people, while trying to take a picture of something else, and when I widened the photo on my phone, one man was pointing his finger and looking straight at me. Sorry buddy. You weren’t in my big picture. Just a victim of a beautiful sunlit afternoon on my childhood beach.
Sometimes, you really can go back to your childhood home, and it’s a pleasure. The only thing is, it’s not really “home” anymore.