I left early this morning to head back. This trip has included a nostalgic return to places where I was supremely happy in my youth. I wrote about going back to university and the feelings that generated.
As part of my visiting places along the route, I stopped to see the horse farm where I used to ride. I had a difficult time finding the place. Where there were farm fields that used to have white fences with honeysuckle and sleek thoroughbreds grazing, there were now large homes. These homes were of the "pretend" stately variety. And they were everywhere.
I finally stopped at the tiny post office to ask where the farm was. The post mistress told me that the historic farmhouse had burned. The owner never was the same after that and died. A new owner tore down the thoroughbred barn and the fences. The old hay barn was left to disrepair. He bulldozed a lot of the land to flatten out the rolling hills and is going to develop the property.
I felt sick at heart. There were many happy memories there. What was once there is no longer. Thomas Wolfe wrote "You can't go home again". But I also like this from Sam Ewing, “When you finally go back to your old hometown, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood”.
Maybe that's where the sadness lies--recalling youthful times. But every day is a memory ready to be made. And years from now I may look back at this time of my life and say, "Remember that May when I went on my trip to old haunts and came back home to the island and one I love." My program of recovery says that I won't regret the past or wish to shut the door on it. But I want to make some memories this day.