So, we came home to a messy house a week later. We were glad to be home after the 24 hour straight-thru drive. I am glad to be able to just BE, and be able to think and reminisce and privately mourn for my grandpa. For the loss of a whole generation on that side of the family. For the unwanted change that is destined to happen at Grandma and Grandpa's House. To only have the memory of that place and those people, and not being able to go back to the place like I have done my entire life.
I am not sure why, or how to explain it, but every time we come home from a Colorado road trip, home just does not feel the same. I feel stuck in some sort of "No Man's Land", neither here nor there, in disequilibrium. Slightly disoriented, and not wanting to have contact with the locals and life here for at least a few days. Like an egg in a hen's nest, not quite ready to hatch, though it's in the nest alongside the other chicks who are already out there chirping and carrying on.
Part of me wants to hold onto that feeling, strange as it is. That feeling of not wanting to have left what is behind , not wanting to settle into home(quite yet), because that would mean letting go of the other place. Settle. Hmm.
Benjamin Button had this to say of coming home: “It’s a funny thing about comin’ home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You’ll realize what’s changed is you.”
So maybe I have changed a bit.
In talking to relatives this last week, I caught myself, for the first time ever, calling Ohio "home". I surprised myself when I did that, because I'd always considered Colorado to be home. I suppose I have settled (in more ways than one, for now) for Ohio...until or unless the perfect opportunity comes about.
Here's a couple Colorado pics in case you're interested:
Who wants to leave this?