I was at my parents' house this weekend. We took Erin down there for her third birthday since we had the money to make the drive to Florida, my finals were done, and she'd been asking to see Grandma and Grandad for over a month now. It was a good trip, and we were really glad we went.
The reason I'm posting about this here is because I want to know how everyone else here feels when they go home. For me, it is kinda wierd because even though it wasn't so many years ago that I left, my perspective has changed a lot I think. I find myself wondering if the place has changed. I know that it really hasn't, but it seems so different to me.
It is crazy to think that I have become so used to having things like air conditioning, cell phone reception, cable TV, and high speed internet connection that it feels kinda like "roughing it" to go back to where I came from, a place which has none of those things.
This Saturday night, after we put Erin to bed, Thak and I sat with my parents, watching British comedies on PBS, just like I did every Saturday night when I still lived there. We drank homemade mead (honey wine) and my parents told us the same old stories about Ireland and where I really come from, that we've heard 10 million times before, and my mom chewed me out for my opinions on Irish politics and my stance on the IRA (Irish Republican Army), and my dad sat there and silently agreed with one of us, but we're not sure which one... LOL Then me and Thak took a walk down the dirt road and watched a storm and the lightning that came with it rolling across the hay fields. It was a normal Saturday night on my family's farm. It was quite nice.
Sometimes I wonder how I got the way I am, since I did come from such a simple place. How did I become the wife who is obsessed with having matching sets of furniture in every room of my house? How did I become the mother who will buy her kid the latest Nickelodeon DVDs, and allow her to watch them as much as she wants? How did I become the student who wants to intern at NASA, and aspires to be a famous physicist? That's not where I came from. When I go home, I think about those things a lot, and I see how happy my parents are with none of that stuff, even though they totally could have all the superficial things I have, and live the same crazy life I live. Going home makes me think about what I've become, and more importantly, who I am. Who I am is just a simple Irish girl with a family name unrecognizable to the community, who grew up on a dirt road in Florida... sometimes I forget. Going back makes me remember, and I'm glad for that.
Anyone else have stories on going home?
