I was outside helping Mom with her gardening, mostly spreading fertilizer (which yes, there is a joke there somewhere), when I was struck by the changes in my old neighborhood. Just small changes, like a house newly remodeled, or a tree taken out. That led me to reflect how much my Texas hometown had grown in the past couple of decades. Old dirt backroads are now four lane avenues, what were once fields of corn and cotton are now shopping and medical centers, the old mom and pop hangouts of my high school youth are long gone and replaced with law offices or the like. Changes are inevitable, of course. With changes come some serious realizations.
Can one ever go back to….anything? I used to think so. There was a time I thought of going back to Puerto Rico, if only for a few months every year. Now, that thought is alien to me. Not that I dismiss my home, but rather that I no longer recognize my home. What I used to know is long changed, or just outright gone. Dad would send me lots of photos of my native hometown, and beautiful though they were, my first thought was usually, “That wasn’t there when I was growing up.” Sometimes the thought was “OMG how could they paint that house in that color??” but that’s pretty on brand for me. I now truly embrace the adage, “Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there,” and it applies to ALL the places I’ve called home. And it’s not just places, either. This applies to people, too.
I think that’s the hardest thing for me to acknowledge. It’s not the changes we go through that makes things hard. It’s the knowledge that we don’t go through changes together that really makes it difficult. I recall coming back for the summer after my first year in college and getting together with my old circle of friends from high school. Six of us reunited for a picnic to talk about our first year away from high school. Only…. the talk was all about our last year in high school. I sat listening and when asked why I hadn’t said anything, I replied that it had been a while since I thought about high school. The silence was pretty damning, and I was not invited to the get-togethers after that. I saw that I had changed outside of their sphere of influence, and that didn’t mesh well with them. One of them went so far as to block me on social media once he found me there, 20 years after our last encounter.
Changes are inevitable. The soul grows wiser as the body grows older. But some things do remain the same, whether it’s the town traditions on special holidays, the habit of Friday night football, or even the principles that make one mature. Reminiscing of old times while being grateful for the new can bridge that chasm, and though we can’t go back, we can certainly move forward by learning from what used to be. π


