THURSDAY, JUNE 13, 2023

 THURSDAY, JULY 13, 2023 YOU CAN’T GO HOME AGAIN

“You Can’t Go Home Again”.

There's an old adage, adopted from the title of a 1940 Thomas Wolfe novel, that states, “You can never go home again.” The saying is meant to infer how nostalgia causes us to view the past in an overly-positive light, and how humans tend to remember people and places from our upbringing in static terms.

This week, I’ve written about visiting Yellowstone National Park as a teenager. Around every corner was a new sight - a new vista - and another shot on the camera.  My eyes were “fresh” - mountains, geysers, mud pots, waterfalls, buffalo/bison, and awesome beauty.

Then Tuesday, I wrote about shopping and going “downtown”.  Downtown Cedar Rapids was a magical place for a kid growing up.  I could window shop.  I went to my first political rally in downtown Cedar Rapids as one of the major candidates for United States President had a rally on second avenue - between first and second streets.  (We were excused from school if we went).  I remember fifty cents burning in my pocket as I looked at jigsaw puzzles and hot wheel cars.

Yesterday, I wrote about gas stations and knowing people (“Where everybody knows your name”). I’ve been working at a senior living community - where pretty much everybody knows your name.

But … those are just memories

*****

Two years ago, I went to a high school reunion.  But, not the high school where I went, but my first teaching job. It was different - where were those fresh-faced 15 to 18-year-old kids?  They were all like me - in their 60’s (okay, I was 73) with gray hair, pot bellies, and grandchildren.

On that trip, I drove through Cedar Rapids.  It “all” had changed.  The eyes of a 15-year-old and the eyes of a 73-year-old are different.  

“On August 10, 2020, with very little time to prepare, a "derecho" hit the City of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, bringing wind speeds of 140 mph and causing widespread devastation throughout our community.” 

My home church was gone - wiped out.  Trees were gone - houses were gone.  I drove my our old home - but it was just a house - no longer a home (at least not to me, my parents, and my sister).  

The school supply warehouse where I worked for several summers was gone.  The downtown was really changed.  I couldn’t stand driving through the same streets, the same street signs - but they weren’t the same streets at all.  

I went to a college reunion in 2019.  I was transitioning - and didn’t know who to be - should I be the person I was in college, or should I be the new me - a woman?  I went as the old person - and hated almost every minute of the weekend.  I had grown up at that college.  I had my first date, my first kiss, my first alcoholic drinks, my first (and last) cigarette, my first deep love, and my basic college education there.  I had returned to get a master's degree there, and I had taught there. But … it wasn’t the same. 

On this earth, we measure almost everything by time.  Even our food had “good until” dates on it.  We are born, then crawl, walk, run, and … eventually grow old and die.

I view God (He/She/It/The Force/Oh) as timeless.  He knows that time is somehow important to us, but He is beyond time.  Hebrews 13:8 says, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

The past is gone - only to live in our memories (like those summer days at Ellis Park Golf course, or playing baseball), the future is unknown - with the only sure thing being death.  The time right now is called the “present” - and like a gift at Christmas - that we call “presents” - today is a “present” from this infinite being - a gift from the infinite creator and owner of all that there is.  

We can’t go home again - because “home” is a memory of turkey roasting on Thanksgiving morn; of a spindly branched Christmas tree with presents underneath.  Home is a memory of hugs, love, grace, and peace.  

*****

Rick Nelson - who to me is “Little Ricky Nelson” - from Nelson’s TV show of the 1950s sang “Garden Party”.

I went to a garden party

To reminisce with my old friends

A chance to share old memories

Play our songs again

When I got to the garden party

They all knew my name

No one recognized me

I didn't look the same

But it's all right now

I learned my lesson well

You see, you can't please everyone

So you got to please yourself

And

Now if you gotta play at garden parties

I wish you a lotta luck

But if memories were all I sang

I'd rather drive a truck

*****

Yes, memories are good (or should be good, and I know that not all people have good memories).  I try to make each day memorable.  I try to have at least one major event each year that is awe-inspiring and truly memorable (like Big Bend National Park this year, and three state high-points last year).

I know I can describe those to my friends and children, but they are my memories, not theirs.  They are building their own memories.  

I’ve used the statement “Change is inevitable this week” - and it is - the image also says “Growth is optional”.  I find that I am driven to change - driven to not sit on the sidelines - driven to be loving, and caring.  

I guess I’ve accepted my own terms:

LOVE WINS

LOVE TRANSFORMS

I CAN ONLY LOVE GOD AS MUCH AS THE PERSON I LOVE THE LEAST

KAREN ANNE WHITE, ©, JULY 13, 2023