Jill's Journal: You can always go home

Is it possible to “go home” when in reality you don’t have a physical “home” to go to?

That was the very question I pondered last week leading up to my less-than-24-hour get-away across the border to Minnesota to where I grew up. My trip was a mini-reunion with longtime friends, and as always, our time together just wasn’t enough.

I rolled into town just before 5 p.m. on Friday, and was greeted curbside by Trish and Val, two of my friends from “the hood.” Just across the street from Trisha’s mom’s home is where my parents had made a life for themselves. It’s now inhabited by another family, who I am hopeful are living a comfortable life there just as my parents did.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realize that a home is just a home without the folks you love living there.

I’ve also come to realize that when you’re among friends and family, you’re “home.”

This particular weekend happened to be the town’s annual summer celebration, “Railroad Days.” It’s filled with an assortment of events, like the all-school reunion, and a variety of things to see and do. The combined Railroad Days / all-school reunion this year lured many to the southern Minnesota town, many of whom I was fortunate to catch up with at one of the local watering holes.

The class of 1983 – the class to graduate behind ours – was having an “impromptu” reunion that night, which added to the town’s festive spirit. As one may expect, I had some trouble putting a name to some of their faces 40 years later. In joking fashion, my friends and I decided that surely couldn’t be as old as some of them looked.

Petty? Perhaps, with a hint of honesty.

That night, as faces from the past approached me, there were multiple people who told me, ‘You look just like your mom.’

Those words made me smile. Inside and out.

I’ve been fortunate to have a “home” to go to when I return to the town and the neighborhood where I grew up.

“There’s always a place for you here,” my friend’s mom, Enie, assures me at each and every visit. 

Our neighborly connection goes beyond just being neighbors. After 57 years and counting, the continual invitations are yet, a reminder that yes, you can go home, even when you don’t have a physical home to go to. Because as I’ve come to realize, a home is just a home without the folks you love living there.