Hold On To Home

When driving aimlessly around my hometown I never have to think about which lefts and rights take me to my house, my home, the place my family lives. It is the only house my family has ever owned and has been one of the few things to remain constant over the last couple years. If you would have caught me in this spot four years ago, I believe you would be looking at a very different person from who I am today. Comparing a quick visit home to what my life used to look like when I lived inside these walls shows just how much moving away from home has changed me.

A four day trip gives me just enough time to spend with the family and old friends and to take a few quiet moments to reflect on how things have changed. In high school, I spent a large percentage of my week at school but my home life was a lot of wasted time. While I was never big into T.V., I spent hours upon hours on the Internet, messaging my friends and reading whiny teen blogs. Every night my mom would come into our computer room and lecture me. Why couldn't I read a book instead? Wasn't there some type of school work I could be doing rather than sitting in front of the computer screen? I didn't understand what the big deal was. I was reading so it had to be good for me--right? It’s funny to me now that I couldn’t see that spending that time with my parents or brothers and sisters would be so much more worthwhile. Today, I’d like to think I see things more clearly. Other than checking the balance of my checking account or taking a peek at my e-mail inbox for a moment, I steer clear of the family computer when visiting. I find myself helping my mom prepare dinner or do the dishes, reading The Grouchy Ladybug to my three-year-old brother or playing board games like Balderdash with my younger siblings. Those are the things that I immediately jump at the thought of doing. The drive home from Wilmington is seven hours, so my trips home are few and far between. There are times at school when I would give anything to be sitting right where I am now, within ear shot of my mom and sister talking and giggling in the next room. Those moments when I can't be with the people I love have taught me to cherish the moments at home instead of wasting them away on the computer.

Chatting online with friends was all about me. What I was thinking about, what I was doing, what upset me. Being in an environment like college where the world doesn't rise and set on my schedule, I've learned to consider the feelings, desires of others before my own. In high school I didn't realize how lucky I was to be living under the same roof as my grandparents. I didn't see them as sources of great love and knowledge, but rather a burden, something standing in my way from having my mother's attention at any given time. Now, since my time with them has become so limited I take time to climb downstairs to their basement apartment and talk with them about school and their dog Cookie or new cat Precious. Despite all the new friends I've made in Wilmington, the networking contacts, I know I will never find two people like my grandparents that are rooting for me and believing in me the way they are. Every success is met with immense praise, every failure with a hug and steadfast encouragement. As more and more time passes, my trips home become less about meeting up with old friends and catching up on sleep and instead centered around that which makes my home, my home—the people inside.

So while the sayings abound about home never being quite the same as you remember it, or the walls of your home fading with memory and the passing of time, I don’t pay them any mind. True, neighborhoods may expand and street names bear new names, but my family keeps the feeling of home intact, regardless of our surroundings.

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