Summer bromance

For a woman who can’t seem to pick the right guy, it feels kind of ironic that I’m surrounded by males. Case in point – at the moment, I’m sharing a home with two children, two cats and a dog. All males.

My middle son has, after two years on his own, temporarily moved back home. It’s only for two months and, honestly, I’m really happy. Adding him back into my daily life, when I was feeling a bit dejected, has been well timed and I’m enjoying the energy he’s injected into our home. 

Bonus – he cooks.

The last time I lived under the same roof as my mother was when I was 17 or 18. Funnily enough, I didn’t leave home.  She did, leaving my brother and I to take on the responsibility of the rental house we had lived in for a few years. That’s different, right?

In the ensuing years it was clear, even after a fire destroyed the house when I was almost 19, that my mother wasn’t in a position to offer shelter to her children. We were very much on our own. There was no home to go back to ever again.

In the past, whenever I thought about that adage about not being able to go home again, I always thought of it literally. Because that’s how I am – literal. I interpreted Wolfe as meaning “once you leave, there’s no returning i.e. the door only swings one way. But, I’m starting to have a different understanding of what that phrase means.

With the recent arrival of my son, and his apartment full of stuff, I’ve begun to reconsider what it might mean to go home again. It now seems to me that maybe going home again isn’t possible because you and the home have both changed. It’ll never be exactly as it had been prior to your departure. 

There is no going back.

My son may be my child, but he isn’t a child. He’s a grown up with a full time job and years of self sufficiency under his belt. He isn’t subject to a curfew or limitations upon what he does with his time or his money. While I’m appreciative of his consideration about keeping me informed of when he’ll be out late or might have friends over, he certainly isn’t obligated to completely keep me in the loop. 

The less I know, the better sometimes, right?

Once a person has moved out, and on with their life, returning to the nest is never going to be quite the same. Both the individual and the home have been recast. They’re simply different.

So, I intend to take advantage of this time in a few ways. For the next month or so I’ll enjoy the freedom I have to peace out for an out of town overnight or two, knowing that all those male pets will be taken care of reliably. There will also be a reprieve from being responsible for every dinner planned and executed, which I will certainly enjoy.

But, even more than that, I’ll appreciate having my home feel almost full again if only for a short time – and the knowledge that I could provide my child with a safe, comfortable place to which to return. 

Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same.

Thomas Wolfe

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