the return home

I hate flying. There, I said it. My chest can finally be rid of holding that in.

This past Sunday, I flew back to the land of my youth, Georgia, for the holidays. Interestingly, I hadn't been home in a year. So, needless to say, this journey was, and is, pretty significant. I'm realizing each day that the goal that I wanted to accomplish of becoming my own man, is becoming more of a reality every day. That is a goal that I could not have accomplished by staying here. I know that now.

The coolest part of flying out of Sky Harbor is not just being able to listen to "Goodbye Sky Harbor", it is also being able to watch as the titan, that is Phoenix and it's metro area, flicker and abruptly stop at the base of the Superstition Mountains. It is like watching the tide close in on entrenched sand castles on the shore. Aside from that imagery, I prefer to distract myself from the flight by reading. I remember wondering the whole time that I was preparing to come out here, what it would be like. Would I be sad and reflective? Or just be very thankful that I didn't stay? I'm learning that it has becoming neither.

Virtually from the moment that I landed in the flickering Christmas lights of Atlanta, I have been wined and dined like a royal dignitary. This is awesome. Every restaurant that has been etched in my mind as a monument to my youth has been visited. Every place that I had remotely hinted at being interested in visiting has been visited. In essence, this trip has been all about me. The turnabout is that I realized something very important. While I am attempting to hack out a piece of this world for myself, this world that was a part of my every day has kept on racing through it's life. My cousins that were babies are now toddlers; my aunts and uncles are duking it out for who can have more gray hairs; my parents are slowly acclimating to being empty nesters; my sister is making me an uncle.

There is so much happening and so much that I have missed and that I will miss. Honestly, it hurts. I sat very quietly this evening taking in every nuance of the evening. These are all things that I missed. Did they make me who I am? Probably to some degree. Would I be happy still living here? No. I know that I am where I am supposed to be. Unfortunately, that means I will miss some basketball games and some dance recitals, but in the end, hopefully I will have become the man I was supposed to be all along. Honestly, I feel like each time that I leave here, it makes me stronger.

Its good to know that I have a good, strong family that loves and supports me. That's more than a lot of people have in this world. I am just hoping that when I head back on Saturday and all of this that reeks of familiarity is gone, that I will hold fast to this reflection time I have had. I will remember when trying to make it gets too hard, that I have all these wondrous things going on here. Not that they are here to distract, but to remind that I am blessed. I may not have accounts loaded with moola, but I have love and support. At the end of my life, I'm certain that's all I will really be glad that I attained.