Heading homeward

It's funny - I've lived in this house for  7 1/2 years (the longest I've lived anywhere since HS graduation). I helped design the kitchen, helped pick every color on every wall, except my daughter's room. I helped pick every piece of furniture and everything on the walls. I bought or chose (from my parents art book collection) nearly every book in the living room/family room.

But I still feel like driving to my Dad's house is going home. Once a small town girl, always a small town girl. Tonight I'll sleep in my childhood bedroom. The canopy bed is gone, but the memories are all still there. As are many of my friends. I'll see a few of them too, taking very familiar routes to get from place to place.

Formally the reason for my trip is to take my Dad to a dental appointment. He has a 3 hour appointment for bridge work and he's worried he won't get up on time (and I'm worried he shouldn't drive home if they give him pain killers). But any trip home is as much about me as it is about visiting the people who live there. Can't wait. Love my home town. Wish it were closer...


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