Going Home

This post is a shameless cut and paste of something my son posted yesterday. Last night he arrived home for a brief visit and I love how he has summed up what ‘going home’ means to him.

 

Going Home - There’s something especially nice about visiting home for a short while. All the family are there, you can relax and slip back into the role you played before moving away. To be clear; by home I mean the place you grew up before moving out.

I presume this is most applicable to those who moved completely away from the home area, so when you visit it’s more likely that it’s completely relaxed, and purely to just be home and see everyone.

Me personally slips effortlessly into the childhood position he occupied for 18 years, complete with being a general menace to be around. It’s not clear whether or not this is appropriate, but if it’s only for a few days, the family tend to view it as nostalgia in a ‘glad to see you’ kind of way. Any longer and I’m pretty sure it starts to grate

Anyone who looks forward to ‘just being at home’ and being around their family should feel privileged, it’s not something everybody feels, many people have no desire to do so once they’ve been out in the big wide world for a couple of years, and it’s a real shame. There’s nothing quite like being able to leave responsibility behind and act like the child you once were, or always will be, in a situation where it’s perfectly acceptable to do so….if only for a couple of days.

Me for one feels extremely lucky to have a family that allow him to do so, or one that allows him to maintain an illusion that it’s acceptable

 

Thanks for dropping by.

  Wendy x