After attending Nyack College from 2011 through 2015, I was more than ready to move out on my own.

I signed a lease for an apartment in the Nyack area and continued to work at the church I had been interning at while in school. I was ready to live independently and be in the NYC metro area permanently.

However, as time passed, I began to ache for the things I knew. When work got hard, my relationships suffered, and I didn't know where to turn. My desire was always to come back home.

This weekend I decided to take some time off work and go back to where my life began. There is so much reminiscing to be done, many laughs to be had and a multitude of memories to sift through.

Driving around town and seeing how so many things have changed and how much of my family's history exists there brought a warmness to my heart. But, it was also bittersweet.

I drove to all of the schools I had attended throughout the first 18 years of my life. Most schools have been majorly renovated between adding new wings, new playground equipment and probably the most important is my high school getting air conditioning. Let me tell you, nothing was worse than gym class in the heat. It's amazing how upperclassmen still had yet to discover deodorant.

I stopped by the first church I attended when I was a toddler. I still remember making bunnies out of washcloths on Easter morning. That church was seated perfectly on the corner of Main Street. I've spent a lot of time at the many establishments that line the road.

My hairdresser's shop is there. The Mill Street Pub has the best crock of French Onion Soup you'll ever slurp down. There's the bakery my Mom worked at when I was younger. Thank God we still have the Sugar Cookie recipe. I used to call them "Ducky Cookies," since they were shaped and colored like ducks.

Farther down you'll come across the Antique Shop that has been there ever since I can remember. Finally, The Funeral Home my Dad used to work at sits across the street from my childhood home. We moved when I was in the 2nd grade or so, and I have to admit, it's pretty odd to see it looking so different.

All of this to say, I've grown to miss this place and the people here. I've taken for granted the fact that I can drive 2 hours and come visit the place that made me the woman I am today. No matter what bad memories I can bring to mind, there are far too many good ones that overshadow the not-so-pretty.

If you have the ability to visit home, do it. Don't wait until it's too late. Your family and friends may or may not always be around. Many of the places you know and love can change in the blink of an eye.

Take every opportunity you have to look at where you came from and how that shaped you. When you do, I hope you can sit and smile with a grateful heart like I was able to do this weekend.