Can you go back?

This is a part 2 of sorts to my daily prompt post of the day.  The post asks us what would we do to get the things the got away, what would we change?

Sometimes, we just have to accept things as they are and live in the present, to be fully engaged with the ones that we love.

When I was a kid my family moved due to a job transfer.  While my dad was an imperfect person, as an adult I fully appreciated the gravity of having to make such a decision.  Whether to stay put, or whether to make the move.  I believe he made the right decision for our family.  Around the time of the move, perhaps due to my age, or due to the stressful circumstances, I started noticing the dysfunction in our family.  I don’t think I knew the word dysfunction…at that point it was more a feeling of dread that things were never quite right.

Moving was stressful for everyone.  I had a very hard time fitting in to my new school.  My dad had a hard time fitting into the culture of his new workplace.

I remember my mom crying before we moved.  At that time we lived sort of close to the big city.  Our move would take us to the sticks, the boonies, the middle of nowhere, at least in my mom’s mind.  My mom and dad were both born and raised in the big city.  My mom though had much more attachment though to the place.

It wasn’t that she was just homesick though.  I’m not sure she completely got over the move.  She couldn’t ever seem to embrace our new home.  While I wouldn’t say she should have hidden her feelings, I think it made it harder for us as kids when she couldn’t get over the move.

It wasn’t just about the actual place.  The big city represented to her the golden days of her youth and young adulthood.  People she had dated.  Jobs she had.  Even clothes she had worn.  She was attached to the culture and possibilities that existed before marriage and kids came along.  She was the homecoming queen or the high school football player whose peak  experiences were in high school, who in her eyes, life didn’t seem to amount to much after that.

This wistfulness prevented her from being fully present in today.  She never seemed to get over the hatred of living in the sticks.  We didn’t actually live in the middle of nowhere, but in her eyes we did.  It was if there was little worth remembering that would occur after we moved.

There is nothing wrong with remembering the good times of the past, as long as it doesn’t keep you from moving forward.

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