There's something about going home. There’s something about returning to the house you spent your childhood in, to the town that raised you, and to the people that you grew up with. It's like going back to the person you were before you left. You're reminded of your roots, of your morals, and of how you became who you are.
It's not that you left yourself when you left your hometown, you just left a part of you there. When you find your way home, that part of you is waiting to be placed right back into you. You’re able to reminisce with your childhood friends and talk about all the ridiculous times you shared.
It's the feeling you get driving up Main Street for the first time in a long time. You pass certain spots: your high school parking lot, your football stadium, your coffee shop, or that restaurant you and your friends always met up at after school, and you can't help but have this flow of memories overtake you. Like the time your best friend laughed so hard milk came out of her nose, or when your parents told you that you were getting a new baby sibling, or that night you went on your first date with your high school crush.
Your hometown is filled with these memories. They're permanently placed in the town you grew up in. They exist there just for you. From homecoming parades, to holiday celebrations, to long walks with the person you fell head over heels for... every important spot has a story only you and your hometown pals can tell. And each memory is just as important as the people you share it with.
One of my favorite things about my hometown is the community behind it. Just like a lot of small towns, we are a family. When a tragedy occurs, no matter how big or small, we come together. We provide support. We cook meals and raise money, we hold events and bring people closer. My hometown has given me an incredible sense of community that I have not found anywhere else. I am so thankful for the little town that raised me, and I am even more thankful for the people who inhabit it.
Growing up in an area with about 3,000 residents means becoming creative with weekend activities. Everyone would joke about how boring our town is, but it only meant that we had to be open-minded. We did everything from bonfires to cornfield tag. We quickly learned that bike riding and playing cops and robbers was how we would spend our summers. Our local pool was the place to be and our local market was the place to buy from.
My small town was not something I had appreciated as I grew up in it. It was something I wanted to escape from. However, over the years, I have come to realize how important this little area truly is to me. It is a part of me and I am a part of it. I love my little town, and I would not have wanted to grow up anywhere else.
