It’s a tale of two towns really. I live in a rural town north of Boston. It reminds me of where I grew up in Windham County, Connecticut. I recently spent a week in my home town. My mother had minor surgery and needed someone to stay with her for a few days. I’ve done that a couple of times in the past ten years. And I always have a sense of wistfulness while I am there.
it’s nostalgia. Not much has changed in my hometown. As I drive the familiar
roads I am reminded of friends. The town now has two traffic lights that
actually stop traffic. And a Dunkin Donuts. The elementary school is now the
Senior Center and Public Library. A new school was built on a different road.
Some of my friends moved away and like me, only come back for a visit. Some
came back years later and seem to have “settled down.” Part of returning home
is the familiarity and I often feel the proverbial tug of wanting to recapture
then I think of my life now. I am blessed with a loving husband, two wonderful
cats, a beautiful home, and a job I love. I have built a life that includes
friends, activities, and a comfortable routine. I would not trade this journey
for starting over again; even in a familiar place.
wish to return to the roads, and church, and friendships when I visit that
small town in Connecticut. However, I long for home and the comfort its
familiarity brings when I am away. The phrase “home sweet home” has a different
meaning now. So I will count my blessings that I am able to occasionally participate
in my hometown community while living a full and happy life in another small