There are certain things that remind me of home.
And I'm not talking about my true home, which has been, and forever will always be right here on my happy little island.
But the place I grew up. Bakersfield, California.
The place I couldn't wait to get out of.
The place I always felt like a fish out of water in.
The place where a lot of great things happened for me and a lot of things I hate thinking about too.
I don't know why I get so embarrassed when I think about my growing up years. I think we all went through the painfully awkward stuff and so I am not unique or alone in that, but I still cringe when I see pictures of some old boyfriend online or when an old VHS of a play I was in resurfaces, or when I think about how much I let things get to me in High School and how alone I let myself feel when I had good friends all along.
So our hometowns are like big, heavy leather trunks tucked away in the attic of our memory, storing all the past anxieties, disappointments, learning experiences, and triumphs too.
But so much time has passed since I have actually lived there that I find myself wishing to be there and I think that is because
Kimball and Betty Hawkins, my own sweet parents, live there.
And my sisters family.
And my old haunts and hangouts.
And a few treasured friends.
And my childhood home.
And all that good Mexican food and Barbecue.
And so we are excited! And even made a paper-chain.
And in 14 days this current mother of two, wife, Hawaiian heart and soul, homemaker, English teacher, lap swimmer, crafty version of me will visit Las Vegas, Utah, Newport Beach, and yes, Bakersfield, California and I'll run my fingers over my homecoming queen crown, and watch the old obnoxious drama nerd VHS tapes, and swim in my parents pool without a care again and avoid some people as best I can while catching a glimpse of the old haunts and hopefully reconnect with some dear friends as well.
I'm looking forward to it.