It has been twelve long years but at last I am going home. To walk the streets of my childhood and notice the changes. To sit in a market cafe and eat my fill of meat and potato pies and chips. To go to a pub and have a real Ploughman’s lunch or even better a Lancashire Hot Pot. To go to Asda and fill my cart with all of the things I have been missing for the last twelve years. To stand on the banks of the River Lune and just watch as she rolls by. To go to my mum’s and Norman’s 80th birthday party and just dance and be silly with my family. To meet my great niece Nancy Olivia for the first time. To sit and have a moment of quiet reflection and a million giggles with my sister whom I miss so much. To hug once again my best friend Lynne who I have not seen for years and yet who has been a constant at my side since I was 14.
To just be. Just be. In Lancaster, in Market Square, in my mum’s house, in my home town. Just be. Just be me. Who knows at what time I will ever get to go back, but just this once I get to go home. Home and all of its blanket of familiarity will envelope me, and all of its meness will enfold me, and all of its core of my very being will infuse me, and all of its building blocks of the very person I am today will click into place and be there, where they aught to be. Lancaster is where I grew up, where my personality developed, where everything I am and everything I do was born. Where I was born.
I’m going home and it never felt so good. It never felt so right. It never felt better. I have lived in the United States for over twenty years now, and I consider my little acre of North Carolina to be home, but there is always that little part of me that longs for the Pads (a walking path in my area) that longs for the Canals, their serenity and beauty being hard to compare, that longs for the Bluebell Woods, that longs for the late night run to the Off License to grab a six pack of beer, that longs for the walk from my house to town, to the market, to the butchers, to the cheese shop. My heart aches some times for those things, and my heart aches for the sheer closeness of my family, if only I could run around the corner and visit with my Mum, if only I could get in the car and invade my sister’s house and bug her all day, if only I could go to Amy’s and spoil my great niece all day and then hand her off, for her to deal with. If only.
I’m going home.