Bittersweet journey to former home
It was a well-planned surprise birthday party. A reunion of longtime friends who had not seen each other for many years. Cake and ice cream. Gifts. Good food. Photos of children and grandchildren were exchanged, along with much boasting about their achievements.
We had rested up at the motel after the 500-mile drive on the previous day to South Carolina. We were back once again in the South, where our three children were born. Where life moves just a tad slower, and southern hospitality is not just a quaint saying.
The daughter of a former long-time neighbor had called us months earlier to ask if we would consider making the trip down South for her mother’s surprise birthday party. Her mother has had recent health problems. The reunion of old friends and family was intended to help boost her spirits.
As with any event such as this, no one knows really what to expect. We renewed old friendships, shared stories about jobs, marriages and children. But we weren’t prepared for our personal reaction.
As we were driving back to the motel after dinner, I mentioned that the good people, the conversations, the great memories, had put me in a down, depressed mood, for some unknown reason. My wife agreed. She felt the same.
The author who wrote “You Can’t Go Home Again” obviously knew what he was talking about. For each phase of our lives, from childhood to retirement, the past cannot be recaptured. It floats past like the haze of a morning mist.
For us, those days brought back a flood of memories, of times when our children were very young. The snapshots passed around showed small faces with bright, innocent eyes and energetic smiles.
Those days were shared with these friends we knew as good neighbors then. Then we were all in our 30s, all of us had young children, and our careers were in their early years. We shared good and bad times together, made the emergency room trips for childhood injuries together, watched out for each other’s kids as they played. We never thought anything would change then.
Now, 25 years later, we gathered together, probably for the last time, to celebrate friendships, memories and old times. We looked around the room at each other, trying to remember the person we knew those many years ago.
We remembered young adults, young parents who were our friends and neighbors. Of course they were older now. What had we expected – time would not age them? Maybe we did.
After the birthday celebration was over, we agreed, after a brief discussion, to leave a day early for our trip back to Pennsylvania. There are great memories from those times; yet, the fond recall of those years seemed to drain our energy, probably because we felt such regret that those days had come and gone.
The only lesson we learned, I suppose, from this experience is that we should enjoy as much as possible the time we have now. Today. For far too soon this time, which none of us believe will ever change, will be just another memory.
The surprise birthday party was a success, but it had one more surprise none of us had ever expected.
Mike Ellis is the editor of the Herald-Standard. His e-mail address is: mellis@heraldstandard.com.