Sunday, February 13, 2011

You can never go home again

They say you you can never go home again.  But then Bon Jovi rifts "Who says you can't go home again" as he comes to realize the importance of the place he had been trying to run away from.  I'm not one to say that either is right or wrong, but perhaps both are correct.

I suppose I have an odd family -- one that is completely close and distant at all the same time.  We all genuinely love one another and want to see one another; on the other hand, we are all independently minded and doing our own thing.

I never really know what I'm looking for when I go back.  I'm probably yearning for conversations of a certain elusive criteria -- conversations that I don't know how to have nor know what they look like.  Instead, we talk about the same things.  My dad will deliver diatribes on the government or the state of the fallen World, my mother will join along  They'll ask about my life; things won't have changed and I won't know what to say -- so I won't say much.

And there we are, another year gone.  Another semi-wasted opporunity and another Christmas to blend in with all the rest.  I love being with my family even if we usually don't do much.  I know one year, one of us will not be there for good.  I can feel my lament before it happens, that I will have wished to have done things differently.  I am trying to reverse the fates, but I'm not sure I am strong enough or even know what to do...