Castle on the Hill

Feeling very nostalgic today for my hometown of Charlton. Nostalgia is a feeling that fuels a fire and a sorrow in my heart all at once. The fire burns and warms me and floods my soul with memories of what once was. The sorrow trails it, feeling like wet tears on the pavement. Cleveland has become my home, a home I could never have imagined would make me feel so blissful, especially not in such a new place. I feel comfortable here, knowing my Burnham family is an hour away and my best friend is at my side every night. I feel comfortable in my home, with new friends, with my dog. Everything is...comfortable.

The one memory of living in Charlton with my family is so poignant today, and it's the memory of my parents sitting on our front porch in their rocking chairs, watching my siblings and me play basketball in the driveway. The sun setting, the air becoming cooler, my youngest sister wearing my sweatshirt that fell to her knees. My other sister hip-checked me and I fell to the ground. Laughter ensued, filling the night air with a wonderful sound. Dad brought out his guitar, mom watching him with loving eyes. My brother lowering the hoop so he could make a slam dunk.

I miss those nights.

I also miss my closest friends. The "Dresser Hill?" group text, jumping in the car and driving over the grassy hill to our favorite ice cream bar. Parking the cars backwards on the hill to face the sunset, ice cream dripping down our chins, music playing softly through the car radio. We would reminisce about prom, who was dating who, how the basketball team was doing - typical high school conversations. Nothing else mattered at that point. No responsibilities or worries crossed our minds. Life was simple. Broken at times, but a clean break.

When I picture home now, it's different. The people are scattered, the memories are a blur. The time to go out and play basketball doesn't seem to be a priority anymore. Rushing rushing rushing. "Let's facetime this week!" is the group text now, which is most of the time forgotten or pushed back due to responsibilities and worry. Life is no longer simple.

Going home will always put that fire back into my heart. The memories will always flood my soul. The love I have for my friends and family will never die. We will always pick up where we left off, like nothing has changed. And that is the beauty of going home. Nothing changes, and everything changes all at once.

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who helped me be where I am today. My childhood was so blessed. Messy, but blessed. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Like Ed Sheeran sings, "these people raised me and I can't wait to go home."

- Tay