We live in the town where my husband D grew up and in the house where he lived from age 3 until adulthood. A few minutes away from the house in which we live is the cute little ranch house pictured above, where D lived from birth till age 3. The family moved because D's 2 year old brother liked to be in the front yard and watch cars pass by on the busy main road, causing much anxiety and consternation for his parents. We drive by this ranch house often, and last week we noticed a "For Sale" sign in the front yard. This morning, D's sister saw the "Open House" sign, and none of us could resist the chance to go "home" again. The owners are a friendly, gracious couple who have lived there for 30 years (but moving to Florida) and welcomed us in (after we readily confessed our true intentions). It was fun for us to see the changes and think about the young family living there in the 1960's.
I missed my 20 year high school reunion yesterday. The reunion was held at a restaurant in Manhattan, not the Bronx where my school was (and still is) located, either a nine-hour train ride or one-hour plane ride away from here. I really REALLY wanted to go, but I couldn't figure out the logistics of going out of town the third week of the school year to attend my reunion without my husband who was coaching my daughter's last soccer game of the season that same day. Instead, I found and friended a handful of classmates on Facebook and followed with envy their updates and posted pictures about the reunion. That's my version of going home and staying home at the same time.