I distinctly remember sitting at the head of the harbor on a cool evening thinking about the future. The time was quickly approaching for me to leave for Navy boot camp. High school was already a memory and the future was waiting for me. I couldn't know what was to follow, I couldn't know what I would leave behind, all I could do was speculate about the future. And I had big plans, as most 18 year old boys do, I knew it all, and I was ready. I was going to be on a nuclear powered submarine! That's what my recruiter had told me I could do. I heard, you will. That's the way the human psyche works though, you tend to hear what you want to hear. I had passed all the preliminary exams, I was qualified for Nuclear power school and subs shouldn't be an issue. I sat there dreaming of things to come not taking the time to say goodbye. I wasn't aware that was my true purpose for being there.
I was to go to Navy boot camp, that happened, but no Nuclear power school and no submarines lay in my future. I didn't know when I walked away from the harbor that night, it would be the last time. A childhood now relegated to the past. Following my basic training I did travel back home only to find it wasn't where I had left it. My folks had sold my childhood home, my bedroom was gone. When you are a child, your bedroom is your home, it was your space. I had no personal space while in basic training and now I had no personal space here! It came as quite a shock. Oh, the folks had just moved a few houses up the road, but that was a one bedroom bungalow. There was no room for me. Eventually they would sell that home as well and move to Florida. The last vestiges now gone, I was to only walk up that dirt road one more time, as a visitor, an observer. I walked up that road seeing what was and hearing voices from the past. The laughter of childhood and the voices of my siblings. Little moments in time.
All that was forty some years ago, four decades having past. Yet the memory remains crisp and clear. The emotions are still there not being dulled by time. I used to think about going home. It took a long time to accept a simple fact, home isn't there , home is a memory. I have made my own home, in many places since that time. I can visit all those homes any time I like, all I need do is remember. This morning I was remembering sitting there, under a tree, at the head of the harbor. Another time and another place. It has been said, home is where the heart is. I understand that sentiment. My heart lies with those that I love, and have loved, and in that, I have found home. Truth is, I never left at all. Home isn't a place, home is shared hearts, shared hopes and dreams.
I was to go to Navy boot camp, that happened, but no Nuclear power school and no submarines lay in my future. I didn't know when I walked away from the harbor that night, it would be the last time. A childhood now relegated to the past. Following my basic training I did travel back home only to find it wasn't where I had left it. My folks had sold my childhood home, my bedroom was gone. When you are a child, your bedroom is your home, it was your space. I had no personal space while in basic training and now I had no personal space here! It came as quite a shock. Oh, the folks had just moved a few houses up the road, but that was a one bedroom bungalow. There was no room for me. Eventually they would sell that home as well and move to Florida. The last vestiges now gone, I was to only walk up that dirt road one more time, as a visitor, an observer. I walked up that road seeing what was and hearing voices from the past. The laughter of childhood and the voices of my siblings. Little moments in time.
All that was forty some years ago, four decades having past. Yet the memory remains crisp and clear. The emotions are still there not being dulled by time. I used to think about going home. It took a long time to accept a simple fact, home isn't there , home is a memory. I have made my own home, in many places since that time. I can visit all those homes any time I like, all I need do is remember. This morning I was remembering sitting there, under a tree, at the head of the harbor. Another time and another place. It has been said, home is where the heart is. I understand that sentiment. My heart lies with those that I love, and have loved, and in that, I have found home. Truth is, I never left at all. Home isn't a place, home is shared hearts, shared hopes and dreams.
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