Home Again

"They" say you can never go home again, which isn't really true. I go home every Christmas, and sometimes for Thanksgiving, and occasionally during the summer...but I get the idea. It is true, I can't go back to the way it was, the way I felt in high school, the girl I was, the boys I liked, the friends and jokes we thought were hilarious...and that is a very good thing. We move on, grow to become more of the women we are, fall deeply in love with men, make new friends and often laugh about the same jokes with the old ones. However, I can go home again. And the glory is in the fact that we both change, home and me. I saw my town with new eyes, for the beauty that had become common when I was growing up there. Spending time with a good friend in a place I love, experiencing each other, our friendship, our town in new ways with the comfort of the past holding us close...no it is not going home again, it is better. I found a new home, a deeper home, in the safety of the familiar and the excitement in the changes of life.