Growing up

Sometimes we need to come back home to walk through the paths of our childhood so that we may put some of the ghosts to rest,

and move from the summer of our lives towards our own winter.  Both are beautiful, and both have a lot to teach us.

During the nearly 30 years I was gone from home, my father built this bridge on the farm where I grew up.  After finally returning home, my daughter and I spent a year living with my parents on that farm, healing from a difficult period in our lives.  That year I was able to help my mother recover from open heart surgery, help my father slowly turn over the reigns to part of the family business, and help my daughter gain emotional security.  For myself, I gained some peace of mind.  Walking through the woods, digging in the dirt, and living in the room of my childhood allowed me to reground myself and to put my feet back on the path to the future I wanted for myself and my child.

I will be 48 this year, with a child in college and another in the 3rd grade, and I am taking a walk down the road that has always called to me, only this time I chose it for myself.