I used to be a person who talked about what was going on now, but now I am full of “remember when’s”.

Although I know time does not wait for you, and that the world keeps moving even if you are not there. This year would be the first time I actually experienced it myself.

In August of 2017, I left home to go to college at Jacksonville State University, which is about 2 hours away from my hometown. I knew I needed to leave my roots and grow as a person. My home in Madison, Alabama is the only place I have ever called home. It is the place where I had one of my first memories. It is a place of happiness and nostalgia. It is full of my firsts and forever will be.

The first time I went home for the weekend was Labor Day weekend.

I drove home and I was so excited to be back where everything is comfortable. I was excited for everything to seem normal for a bit. But, it was different. My house was quiet, with all the other members of the family moved out. The furniture in my room now has a thin layer of dust on it. Everything is left exactly how I left it on that Saturday before I left.

My favorite stores I spent hours in with my friends are gone. There are new restaurants that have appeared seemingly out of nowhere and my favorites are nothing but a distant memory. The mall we once had is surrounded by new places of which I never heard of and where the mall once stood is nothing but a pile of dirt.

My once cluttered room looks almost empty. There is nothing on the walls that represent who I am or what I have done. The place I used to work at has a new and updated menu. New people working. My neighbors have moved, one of their children is married and has a kid. My niece who was once 6 months old, is now over a year old.

My once active dog now sleeps most of the time. The bright colors of my Mom’s hair are now dull. The familiar faces that raised me are older but just as happy. My old high school that was once a lifeless building is now updated with bright red and black paint. It looks nothing like how I remember. The once familiar faces of the cashiers in the nearby store are no longer the same and I do not know their name. The only thing that never seems to change is my love for the people who have always believed me and pushed me to do better.

Everything seemed so familiar, but yet so different. It is still the place that holds a special place in my heart. I feel happy when I get a chance to go home because I can visit those who have an impact in my life and reminisce about the good times.

Although, I am now the person who starts off half of her stories "When I was your age..", I am glad to be able to have a place I call home, even when things have changed. Sometimes, it's not the things that make a home feel like home, it's the people.