So we are home.
Have been since Monday.
It only took about 24 hours to fall back into the same patterns we had when we left, and this is not a good thing.
I wrote in an earlier blog about going back to Friendly's for the first time in 30 years and having it be just the same as I remembered; Assateague was the same way.
Reality: places stay the same; it's us who change, and our memories that distort what is real (or our perceptions at a specific age).
So maybe the reason those two places stayed the same is because I am actually the same person I was when I went to Friendly's with my dad and Assateague with my family in the summers. It is so unusual to have a clear memory of something and then go back and have it be just what you remember; maybe the few times that happens is because, for whatever reason, in that moment and in those places, you were the truest version of yourself, so it makes sense that the places didn't change when you re-visit them because you, yourself, haven't changed from the version of you who visited in the first place.
Existential stuff and nonsense perhaps.
Easier to talk about that then about being home.