The House That Built Me

**Post originally from Friday, October 2nd, 2015**

As Miranda Lambert once said: I know they say you can't go home again...I just had to come back. 

Visiting after a year was nostalgic. From the moment I stepped off the plane and for the next two weeks, the lyrics for "The House that Built Me" played on repeat in my mind.

The trip started off right by visiting my favorite froyo--Yogurtland. With no locations in Ohio, it's been dearly missed.

Cafe Rio may or may not have been the second spot on my list of places to visit.

And thirdly came... home.

You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can... I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am.

And off I was to my roots, to remember. Back to who I was before I donned a skirt and blazer and entered the working world. As I stepped inside the front doors of home, it was a breath of fresh air. Familiar air. Immediately, I felt enveloped by comforting memories. It's easy to move on and start a new story, but to go back and re-live an old one... there really aren't words to describe the feeling.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it--this brokenness inside me might start healing. 

I left Utah heart-broken, ready to lose myself in the next place I found. While that brokenness inside me has healed, to walk the familiar walks from childhood could easily heal any wound. It's a place of refuge. The backyard grotto that I used to call my "secret garden," the place where I had a window serenation and danced in the moonlight ;) , took pictures at the beginning of every school year, climbed out the window of the upstairs bedroom  just because, talked about crushes with my best friend, did homework at the kitchen table.... 

Back to the Property, where I strolled and lingered in Memory Lane. To the van trailers full of memories, of pictures. Had to re-stock my supply of pictures for #tbt. ;)

Out here its like I'm someone else, 
I thought that maybe I could find myself.

Waking up early every morning certainly left me feeling like I was someone else. ;) And mom would dispute that any one of those mornings was actually early. 

And as Francisco ways go, there must be work to accompany any good vacation. ;) So off we were, mom and I--to move sandbags.

And don't forget the beauties of yard-saling that were just awaiting us.

It had been far too long since I had participated in such an exciting... (....and early....) endeavor. 

I found it refreshing to return to old ways. Habits I'd since changed in my life (like... getting up early *ahem* at insistence* and yard-saling.)

A highlight of the visit was definitely playing with two little nephews--one being but a month old--and my niece, whom I have not really grown up around.
As I was playing with my niece and showing her my handprints from when we laid the concrete in the backyard patio, the lyrics kept flowing:

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.
And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom...
is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.

Only this time, the little back bedroom has become a toyroom. ;)

And I have to stake my claim that the bedroom is still, indeed, mine.

If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.

In the year since visiting home, I've certainly changed. These changes of personality were made most clear perhaps in interactions with friends. Yet how wonderful are those friends who still remind me of who I am... for when I forget. 

I was slightly afraid that I've changed to a point that my friendships wouldn't be have much base--we don't have much in common any more as far as lifestyles go. If I could just come into our friendship for one more time, I swear I'll leave if we don't have the same commonalities we once shared. 

They're those friends with whom I can make jam (or... syrups, rather...), sit and watch movies with, clean with... really, we don't need a planned activity to enjoy ourselves--that prove that friendships last forever. :) Friendships never end, you might say. ;)

Every day seemed to afford time for lounging (or, um.... burning.... in the pool). #whatalife

I got to bid adieu to a good friend whose family I <3 and is moving to another part of Utah. #insertmanysongshere

And meet up with a best friend once again, now resettled in married life. It's interesting to see how much I've changed from who I was when we were roommates a mere 18 months ago. And the world spins madly on...

And another best friend who is ALSO recently married. He helped that brokenness inside me start healing. Going out to lunch was a wonderful way to get caught up on life, and re-affirm that I am doing okay now. 

And don't forget relative (literally) fun. It's funny to look at how much we have all matured (or... hopefully so... ) as we've graduated, gone to college, started working, and established our independence.

But not so much so that we have to forgo a little fun. :)

And a little bit of culinary enjoyment. 

And... to go along with that culinary enjoyment, a little bit of bike riding. #newhobby

And before we knew it, off mom and I were to Education Week, which was a personal 2015 bucket list item for me. I'd been several years previously as a volunteer, and loved it so much I wanted to participate. 

Best summary of Education Week is a week-long series of courses from spiritual subjects to history, music, culinary, life skills.... It was an amazing week of learning, and I am so glad I was able to go. 

Mom was a trooper for sticking around, even though it's a lot of sitting down. ;)

As I'm contemplating a different career choice in elementary education, I thought it a good idea to visit one of my close friends who is an elementary education teacher.

Our friendship took off from 2nd grade in some heated times table competitions, which we couldn't help but re-enact:

Nursery & Sunday School, ANY DAY.

I don't think there should be any questioning about it...


Mama cut out pictures of houses for years.
From 'Better Homes and Garden' magazines.
Plans were drawn, concrete poured,
and nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama's dream.

The highlight of the trip home was definitely when the boys (AKA Dad & Isaac) came home. Everyone in the family but myself had been together in June, and I certainly felt I had missed out. So, I was delighted that we could all get together and have at least one family meal, all together. 

Which was the perfect photo-op for a (somewhat) updated family picture. 

It was sure nice to get a new picture with dad. #yay!!!

The time came all too soon. Time to say good-bye. Even though I had been fortunate enough to visit for two weeks, the time felt too short. The whole 3 hour drive to the airport, my stomach was in knots. Usually, I am ready for the next thing, but leaving home was hard.

The final words of the song rolled through my mind:

Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

Let's be honest here. I was taking a LOT more than a memory from the house that built me. It involved a checked bag of luggage that I didn't have on my arrival to home, as well as testing the limits of American Airlines' weight & dimension requirements. And back off to Cleveland...