We just returned from Waco, Texas, the place I knew as home for so many years. I went by the house where I came of age, ran that same pavement I pounded so many times and caught up with one of my high school football coaches. I sweltered under that familiar Texas heat (in the 100’s). I saw old friends and, most importantly, our whole brood spent time with my mom and dad, sister, brother-in-law, my two delightful nieces – and my 91-year-old grandmother.
I see it with new eyes now. That theater on 25th street that was for so long merely an eyesore – now I wonder about the laughter those walls have heard, the back row make-out sessions those seats have endured, the stories those moth-eaten screens have offered. I wandered into neighborhoods I thought little of years ago. I think more of them now.
There’s that shopping center that offered the best arcade on our side of town, $10 for all-you-could-play video games. The arcade is long gone, but there’s still a snow cone stand on the edge of the parking lot.
Home may be where you find yourself, but the places that have made you send you off into the world with bits and pieces of home to take along. These places will always participate in whatever home means for us now.