You can’t go back…but you can go.
“Where are you from?” Such a common question. But not really a simple answer. Are you from your country? Your state? Your ancestors? Where are YOU from?
That place where you grew up. That doesn’t exist any more.
That town is not the same. That city. That state. My goodness, the nation is ever-evolving. You changed. Of course that town changed. So you can’t go back in time. And what a relief, actually. That place that maybe let you down, taught you impossible lessons, didn’t believe in you… maybe even hurt you — that place is gone. It’s gone. And you lived on. You became something. You became you. So now you can return to that place – and you can say, well, this is me. And it can say, here we are. And you can meet again.
And home will always be home. Because that’s not actually a place, but a feeling. It might be your mother’s embrace. It might be when you learned to read, ride a bike. Felt secure. You can carry that with you, anywhere. So you can’t relive, but oh, how you can live. Live this wonderful journey.
And on this journey, this fabulous drive, maybe your “last chance Texaco” is really just another chance. You fill up, pull out, and go. And you can go. You can always go. You go on. You live. Always another chance. Where did you learn that? Maybe those loving arms that you call home. The same ones that let you go. And hold you now.