They say you can’t go home again, but I’m lucky enough to be able to. While I love life in the desert, every year around this time I do miss the feeling of a chill in the air and the sound of wind in the leaves, the flash of bright color that comes only when the earth extinguishes its summer sun for the coming winter. That does not happen in much of Arizona. It’s why we travel for Fall Break, so we can experience everything I love about my favorite season.
We stepped into my childhood home again on October first; a place the kids fondly call “grandmama’s house” while they run straight for the big bin of hot wheels cars and sturdy plastic track, circa 1980s.
We walked past my old high school, now mostly construction site, as workers transform the old ball fields into a new building and prepare to demolish the old one. We drove past miles of long gone restaurants and retail space as I counted about a dozen new “data centers,” several in the final phases of construction. The farmland behind my childhood best friend’s house was paved into a retirement community. The numbers on her house are all that remain the same as the residents I knew so well moved on years ago. But, like any house with good bones, there’s a lot left that feels just the same.
During our trip we spent time with grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts, some who’ve earned their titles through lifelong friendship. They greeted us with warm smiles and hugs. The kids played and we caught up, shared meals and drinks and s’mores and laughter.
Yes, a lot has changed and will keep changing. But those bones, what’s most important, remain the same. That’s what makes it feel like home. It’s what stands the test of time. When you focus less on the place and more on the people, you can always go home again.
Our Life in A-Z 