Flint for a Few Days
We took our little one back to Flint, Michigan, my hometown. It was important to me, that he be in the place that I was born, where I grew up--the place I spent my babyhood. He won't remember it, and even if he did, it would mean nothing to him. But that's ok, it meant something to me.
While we were visiting the homeland, we went out and about a bit. Just enough to eat at some of my old favorite restaurants and to visit the Museum of Fine Arts. I've been to museums all over the world, but I was proud of the museum in Flint. It does itself proud. Arthur liked all the color...and I did too. Flint has been a little grey and wasting for a bit too long.
Anyway, it wasn't an exciting trip really. Just good food and home and art that was really, really rather good. It's important, I think, to keep going home. That way, it doesn't only exist in your mind the way that it was when you were young. Instead, you are seeing it change, and adjusting to it along the way, instead of suddenly returning and feeling the place you left is a stranger.
It was good to go home. It was good to bring Arthur there. I felt like a circle had been completed of sorts. I was a baby there, I grew up there, grew into womanhood there--it was only fitting I brought my own child there as well.
I'm rambling. Go home if you live far away. Just for a few days. Kiss your Mom and your Dad and eat some good shawarma/Chinese food/Greek whatever it is, and then (if you have one) look through your child's eyes at what your home is. If you don't have one, remember how your hometown used to be your whole world.