Tales of Being Homeward Bound

Home

 In all my past experiences living outside of the United States, I never went home just for a visit; that is, in those instances, when I returned to Pennsylvania, my travelling was sadly over and it was always a move back to the good old 610. Last month marked the first time I took a short vacation/holiday to my hometown in the Lehigh Valley, and what a blessing it was to be able to enjoy a couple short weeks of the fleeting summer with some of the most amazing people I know.

One of the main purposes of this visit was to attend the wedding of one of my best friends, a girl who I've known since elementary/primary school and whose life I apparently saved once while skiing. [I don't know why I have no recollection of this, but it's a story I've heard a thousand times.] Anyway, in addition to celebrating my friend's new marriage, this trip was also an opportunity for me to catch up with family and friends I hadn't seen in a long time and to visit my favourite place in the world, New York City.

Wedding fun

Admittedly so, when I first found out the wedding had unexpectedly been bumped up a year, I slipped into panic mode as I attempted to work out the details of returning home. What complicated matters the most was the fact that due to my visa restrictions, I knew the trip would inevitably clash with the craziness that comes with having to look for new work; however, after some serious consideration, lots of praying, and flights miraculously dropping almost half a grand, everything fell right into place and it became crystal clear that home was where I was supposed to be in August. Before I knew it, I was planning a trip back to Pennsylvania before my one-year mark in Australia, and I was pretty excited about it.

Ever since I was 17 and and had my first international travelling experience [ironically enough, to Australia and New Zealand], I dedicated much of my time and my effort to escaping Pennsylvania.

Kahlan and Bailey

Whether it was studying abroad, volunteering overseas, or working internationally, I always seemed to be trying to get away. For me, travelling offered something I felt like home just lacked: a sense of excitement, an opportunity to explore, and a possibility for an adventure. Even though the vast majority of my life was spent in Pennsylvania, at some point, it stopped feeling like home.

However, something within me changed as I sat in my childhood room last month and listened to the cicadas outside my window. An inexplicable peacefulness fell over me and I felt a renewed sense of appreciation for home, especially for all my family and friends who are there. While this feeling shouldn't be misinterpreted as my wanting to move back to Pennsylvania, it was as

No trip home would be complete without a drive to NYC

if home and I came to some sort of unspoken agreement. The feud was over, and it was like a weight had been lifted from my heart.

On my last night there, I met up with an old high school friend who I hadn't seen in almost two years. It was certainly unexpected, but as I was leaving, it hit me pretty hard as I realised how much I was going to miss the Lehigh Valley.

I guess Dorothy was really onto something, wasn't she? There truly is no place like home.