You can never go home.
It’s weird being in Waukesha for a couple days with not much to do. Usually I just come home to get my snowboarding instructing thing done and then I go back to campus. Besides winter breaks, I don’t think I’ve spent a full two weeks in Waukesha since I moved onto the Marquette campus in June of 2006. It’s weird to think that.
It’s so strange driving by places like coffee shops, stores, restaurants, and workplaces that used to be really important and significant. I drove past the church where we had the funeral for my friend Josh today and it got me thinking about this whole thing. “Home” to me is kind of relative. I was born in Duluth, MN (three months early) since the Ashland, WI hospital couldn’t deal with a baby so premature. After living in a Duluth incubator for a few months, I finally got to go to Ashland to hang with my parents for the rest of my life. After Ashland brought Mankato, MN, and then Waukesha, WI. My dad was (he retired a few months ago!) a library administrator and found himself writing and directing various libraries in these two states since he and my mom got married. Waukesha is the place where I experienced two deaths of friends, lost my favorite cat, got my first job, saw my parents get divorced, lived in 6 different homes, was in school from second grade to senior year of High School, met most of my best friends, recovered from two major jaw surgeries, and learned to appreciate nearly everything. Being an only child is weird sometimes, but I don’t think I’d trade it for anything – it gives me more time to think, rather than to talk (although I do talk a lot)…
I don’t really identify Waukesha as “home”. You’ll notice “Hometown” on my Facebook isn’t even there. It’s not that I don’t like Waukesha…but I’m not FROM here. Am I from Milwaukee now that I live there for school?
Being around here is just odd. Seeing new buildings being built everywhere, discovering that some have gone out of business, and watching old streets get paved over is just another stage of evolution in this suburb.
What I like most is seeing old friends and their families. A former Assistant Scoutmaster came in to the Ace Hardware store where I’ve worked for 8 years tonight when I was working on some computers and we talked for 20 minutes about what we’re all doing now that we’re getting close to graduating, so to speak. It really makes me miss those camping trips every weekend with my best friends and their parents, cooking over a fire, and learning tons of things I never though I would use again in my life. It’s awesome to know that I have friends studying in Mexico, Canada, France, Spain, and other places all over the world. Watching myself and my friends build niches all over the place doing the things we love with all kinds of people. One weird thing is realizing that next year if I go back to my former High School to speak to French classes…they won’t know me. What?! Not to brag…but people knew me in High School. I’m not sure why. I like to think because I didn’t seclude myself to one clique or group. I wasn’t on any sports teams – I was the kid with no jaw who spoke french and was in Young Liberals. I shouldn’t have been so “popular”, but I was for whatever reason.
Anyway…this will probably just bore you people, but I just thought I’d write it somewhere. For those of you still young enough or choosing to live at your “home”, don’t take it for granted. We’ve all gotta grow up somewhere, and I’ve found it’s best to just figure yourself out where you’re most comfortable.
