When Going Home Doesn't Quite Feel Like Home Anymore

     My little family and I have been back from the States for a couple of weeks now.  We were on one of the three "R&R" trips back home that the State Department will pay for during our three-year tour in Albania.  To be clear, not all FS officers and families get an R&R during every posting; it depends on which country they're posted to.  The bigger the "hardship," within the host country, the more frequent the R&R trips.

     Going back "home" is always a bit strange, to be honest.  Things are always just a little bit different than when we left.  This trip, my husband and I were lucky enough to fit visits to both of our home states in.  We planned our trip around Mardi Gras, and the hubby and I were lucky enough to take full advantage of it.  Going back to South Louisiana after about a year and a half away was like walking back in time.  So many things were exactly like they were when I left:  my toy room, my town, the laissez faire of the South Louisiana people.  But so many things were different too.  There were new buildings and businesses, while other staples from my childhood were shuttered down and boarded up.  It's so strange to go "home" and realize that the whole world's gone on without you.  Don't get me wrong; I don't expect the world to stop turning because I left (HA!).  But it is does take a while to wrap one's mind around the fact that because you might be "from" a place doesn't mean you're still part of it.  Your home is a part of you, but it keeps on moving and changing after you're gone.  People get older, they change, and even move away too; and I realized while I was there that there is a selfish part of me that just expected everything to stay the same. 

      The first blog entry I ever wrote was about my hometown, and I wrote about this little convenience store that was just the heart of it.  It was closed after being damaged by Hurricane Gustav a few years ago.  Each and every time I pass it, I feel a little cringe of sadness that I'll never "smell like the Gator Stop" again.  I also got sad that the only restaurant in town happened to be closed every time I went by it.  Who knows if it was closed because it was Mardi Gras or if it's closed down for good.  Everything in that town has its quirks when I think about it.  The restaurant, Politz, was the busiest place in town on Friday nights.  The same woman waited tables there during my entire childhood, and there was an alligator that lived in the bayou waters behind it.  I don't think I ever saw that alligator, but everyone swore it lived there.  Okay, moving on.

    Don't get me wrong.  It's not like I spent the entire time I was in South Louisiana sad.  It was quite the opposite, but I want to stress the fact that "home" isn't always going to feel like "home" once you've been gone a while.

I hope to write a bit more about our trip at a later date; I just wanted to get these thoughts down.