You know that old adage: The more things change the more they stay the same? I once thought saying fit my small hometown the same way my favorite pair of tennis shoes slide on without having to retie the laces. Only now, when I’m here during what is to be the curtain call on a long tradition of winter breaks and summer vacations, do I realize that isn’t exactly the case. Nothing changes here.
Yes, maybe after fifteen years we have a new town mayor, and of course there’s finally a second grocery store. But the people themselves, the one’s I grew-up with, my high school friends and teachers, the lady who drove my school bus… everyone who either did not want to or was not able to escape from this town sinking into the sands of the southern Mojave desert: they’re the same.
Their problems, perceptions, and ideas do not waver.
Each successive visit to my childhood home becomes more and more awkward because of this staunch conformity to tradition. What have become fond memories for myself remain current to those that I left behind. I look to share my experiences and knowledge from the outside world while they struggle to fit this new me back into the space I left vacant. I’m the proud recipient of reassuring pats on the shoulder and a promise that I’ll surely be able to come back home, find a place and a job that will benefit the community, and fill the spot I left open.
I once thought that I would come back, affect the changes I knew needed to happen, make this town what it could be. But now, any thought, any offer of a future in this place seems to be the beginning of a eulogy for the rest of my life.
So, this trip has been different. I truly am saying goodbye. Oh, it’s not that I’ll never visit, but this is the last opportunity for me to take my place here. I left home for school, but this time when I leave, I wont be going for my education and I wont be leaving home – I’ll be returning to it.
I wish it were sad to be putting aside this chapter of my life – almost nineteen years of memories – but it’s not. I was never the one to cry at a graduation, nor fret over what had past and never would be again. I’m the one who’s already out the door, saying that it’s about damn time, and ready for the more exciting events to come.