It’s always a bit strange saying goodbye to a place, especially one in which you’ve lived and that you’ve called home. Strange because when you no longer go there, the place isn’t really what you’ll miss. In part, you’ll miss making new memories in that comfortable place. But on the whole, it’s the loss of the use of that place as an easy touchstone for old and cherished memories that makes parting bittersweet.
Places hold power for us because they become imbued with the actions, and the intentions behind those actions, that take place in them. At home, the dinners, the games, the celebrations, the grief, the arguments and the love intertwine in the daily actions between family, friends, and spouse.
Today I said goodbye to the home my parents have made for the last 23 years. It was not my childhood home, but I did share it with them for a couple of summers between years at college and then for a few years when I later got another degree. It is also the place that my parents have lived for the longest period — so far.
It is the home that introduced neighbors to us that are now life-long family friends. It is the home where I held my childhood dog for the last time. It is the home they opened to a cousin and later an uncle when both came upon hard times. It is the home with grand 50th birthday celebrations, one “Over the Hill” for him and one “English Garden Tea” for her, that filled its walls beyond their capacities for people, laughter and fun. It is the home that helped us repair our relationship after the strains of coming out. It is the home that held us as our understanding of each other grew — where mentor / adult supplanted parent / child.
But I must remind my nostalgic self that it was not the home that did all of that, it was those who built it: my mom and my dad, together with dear family and precious friends, gathered in relationship, fun and love. So, I take this moment to recognize this transition from the familiar to the new, and in acknowledging the loss of the touchstone, I revel in the thought of imbuing the new with all that love.
As we live our lives it’s important to remember we’re creating memories for ourselves and others. We’re a composite of all that we create as well as what others contribute to our lives. Some events in our lives are the hard to accept kind. A home is a place to heal and regenerate once again a wholesome way of life.
The great part is that feeling won’t change when you visit mom and dad. Still many more memories to made. The only time it changes is when one of them is gone. The love is still there the family is still there but a part of it is gone. While no one says anything that missing person is missed.
Cherish the memoires because that is often all that is left.