Hometown Dreams Hometown Reality

The author John Steinbeck wrote in Travels with Charley, “You can't go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory.” While that very well may be true for some, I was sure beyond doubt that was not the case for me and my own beloved hometown. Thirty years ago, I left a quaint little northwestern Ohio town near the rocky shores of Lake Erie for college life in a metropolitan city in neighboring Pennsylvania. While I was both excited and anxious about taking on this new life miles away from the only home I had ever known, I was overall happy to be leaving the past behind for an adventurous future. With stardust in my eyes, I was not only going to show the world all I had to offer but capture as much of it as I possibly could. After a few mishaps here and there, I soon acclimated to college life and never looked back. I convinced myself I was not missing a thing back home.

Shortly after my move to college, my parents made a surprise announcement. They were selling our family home, house, and all, and moving to a fully furnished condominium on the Gulf Coast of Florida. They placed the house for sale and headed south before fall arrived. While I was happy for my parents, I could not help but wonder how much things would change for me personally. There would be no traveling back to Ohio on holidays and summer breaks. No more homemade Thanksgiving feasts lovingly prepared and served by mom on my great-grandmother’s antique china at the dining table that once belonged to my grandparents. No more eagerly unwrapping gifts on Christmas morning under the brightly lit tree adorned with festive heirloom ornaments. No more sweltering summer days spent walking to the city pool to hang out with old friends. No more stopping off at the local Dairy Queen for delicious hot caramel sundaes. No more fun-filled weekends at the lake. Home, as I knew it for the past 18 years, would cease to exist. Then I thought to myself, what is wrong with you? Here you are, young and full of adventure, yet you are acting like some old melancholy lady longing for a hometown you only left a month ago. I convinced myself everything would be fine and, besides, who needs to go back to a tired old town in Ohio. I now had college breaks and summer vacations in Florida to look forward to as well as new adventures and friends to make. Although I managed to downplay all these major changes in my life and kept telling myself everything was going to be all right, deep down, I missed my old home. This sense of homesickness would remain with me for the next 30 years.

I was an only child, and neither of my parents came from large families. The relatives we did have were scattered all over the country. Which meant there was no family in my hometown to visit. My friends had all left for college, with just a few school acquaintances who stayed around for local jobs. This left me thinking I had no justifiable reason to return home to Ohio. Time went on, and after graduating from college, I pursued a career in fashion merchandising and took a job in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The years went by, and whenever I had a vacation, I would seek some new destination or visit my parents, who seemed to be thriving in Florida. But I never went back home to Ohio to visit. Yet, I could not forget that place's memories and how much it meant to me in the back of my mind.

After a broken engagement, I started dating again but never met anyone of real interest. That is till I met Nick. We hit it off at once. Despite being from completely diverse backgrounds, he was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, and I was from that little Ohio town, we seemed to have many shared interests and things in common. We were together for 5 years, and both now approaching age 50. The thought of being a century old seemed menacing to me, and though it was not as scary to Nick, he did admit to feeling not as thoroughly fulfilled in life as he had hoped to be. We were happy together but were looking for something new and challenging career-wise and with life in general. Although we liked Pittsburgh, we were ready for a change. We decided we needed a plan and started making a list of goals for ourselves. During one of our brainstorming sessions, it hit me, what if we go back to my old hometown? Surprisingly, Nick did not look at me like I was crazy when I shared this idea with him. He had listened to me intently over the past five years as I shared stories about all the wonderful memories I had of my hometown. His upbringing was quite different from mine. His parents divorced when he was four, and he was shuttled back and forth between his mom and dad’s apartments in Brooklyn. Eventually, his dad remarried and moved across the country to California. Nick rarely saw his dad after that, and other than his mom and younger brother, had few other close relatives around. Nick had shared with me in the past he had always longed for the idyllic upbringing I had, which made my suggestion for us to move to my hometown resonate with him even more. After quite a few lengthy discussions Nick and I decided to forge ahead with our plans. We both had concurring vacation days coming up and arranged to visit my hometown and investigate the potential home and job markets.

A few weeks later, the day finally arrived for our trip to Ohio. My hometown was about a five-hour drive from Pittsburgh. We headed out early one morning, and as we got closer to the Ohio border, I started to think back 30 years to when my parents drove me off to college. In my mind, it seemed so long ago, yet it also seemed like just yesterday. We left town on this same highway, and now here I was returning several decades later for the first time. It felt surreal. Nick and I had now reached Ohio, and as we got nearer the lake, my mind started wandering back to all those cherished summer memories spent at our family cottage on the Lake Erie shores. Frolicking in the sand, chasing the waves, collecting seashells on the beach. The late-night bonfires where we would gather around laughing and joking, singing our favorite songs, and roasting marshmallows. I thought to myself it will not be long before Nick and I will be creating memories of our own at the lake.

About 20 minutes later, we were right outside the city limits of my old hometown. I was amazed at how different it looked. What was once tall cornfields and cow pastures was now a busy highway with businesses on both sides of the road. Several shopping strips and car lots, restaurants, and a Walmart now filled what was once open green fields. Though it was a bit of shock to me, I told Nick this was a good sign. The city was also progressive despite its small stature. Nick agreed and seemed already smitten with the town, and we had not even reached the city limits yet. After we arrived in town, we drove along the main street, and again I was amazed at all the changes that had taken place over 30 years. So many of the locally owned businesses I remembered were now gone and replaced with new ones. I did recognize a few places here and there, and the beautiful old churches that had stood for several centuries remained. We stopped to grab a bite to eat, then headed towards my old neighborhood. As we drove along, I noticed the library I spent so many hours of my life reading and studying at had been completely renovated. My old high school was torn down and a new one built nearby. My old junior high school was completely gone, and a park was now in its place, and in a move to merge grade schools, mine was closed and amid being torn down.

It seemed everything had changed so much, and I felt a slight bit of trepidation about whether this move was the right decision for us. On the other hand, Nick was like a five-year-old kid in a candy store with a pocket full of loose change. We made our way over to my old neighborhood, and although it was still in decent shape with well-kept houses lining the street, I could not get over how most of them looked so different. Many now covered in siding of various colors far from the way I remembered them. As we pulled up beside my parent's old home, I was struck by how much smaller it now looked. It appeared to be well maintained though much of the exterior had changed. The once white stucco house with dark green wooden shutters was now fitted with pale yellow vinyl siding minus shutters. The front porch had been completely reconstructed. And the yard that my parents so meticulously landscaped was vastly different. The trees had all been cut down, and the white picket fence my dad had painstakingly built was gone as well. There were fewer shrubs and flowers, and overall, the landscaping left much to be desired.

We spent the next several days driving around, checking out the rest of the town. By now, Nick was thoroughly convinced we were making the right decision to move. As much as I wanted to be 100% in agreement, deep down there was utter contempt building inside me. I felt overwhelmed by all the changes and grasped for just one single solitary reminder as to why I had ever loved this old hometown of mine, though I struggled to find one. However, I told myself I just needed to get used to all the changes. This was the same way I felt 30 years ago when I left home for college. It was a major upheaval, and it would take time to adjust, but everything would eventually work itself out. After all, I was home again. The place I had pined for all these decades. Yes, I was home, and everything was going to be perfect. Just give it time.

We soon began searching for job opportunities in the area. As luck or fate would have it, there was a local women’s boutique for sale downtown. Owning my own retail business had always been a dream of mine. Nick was game for the challenge of the two of us becoming business owners. We had enough savings built to make the investment. Again, luck was on our side when we found a quaint little home for sale just down the street from my parents’ old house. Everything just seemed to fall into place for us. Our move was meant to be. It was indeed our destiny. We made our final decision, the two of us were moving back to my hometown. Nick helped me get started with our newly purchased clothing store, and not long after, he found a job in his line of work as an investment advisor. It did not take us long to find ourselves thriving and feeling right at home. We had our first house. I had my own clothing business. Nick had a great investment job. We were making new friends and becoming involved in our community. Everything appeared to be wonderful, but appearances can be deceiving. The reality was, one of us was completely content, and the other was downright unhappy. And it was not Nick that was unhappy.

It was going on a year now since we had uprooted ourselves back to my hometown, and as hard as I tried, the reality was, I was utterly miserable. As much as I kept telling myself that I just needed more time to adjust, it was simply not working. The truth was I hated this town. Yes, the town I loved for 18 years and pined for another 30, I now despised. It was nothing the way I remembered it. I fully understood that everything changes with time, and nothing stays the same, but it was more than that. I began to realize that although I always loved my hometown when I was growing up, I also had a deep desire to move away. That is why I chose a college in a metropolitan city in another state. I had wanted to get away from small-town life. This left me bewildered as to why, for decades, I had been drawn to wanting to go back home. Then it dawned on me it was not so much about the town itself but the memories I made there—those memories of school days, friendships, summer vacations, and family holidays. Walking to and from school, pep rallies, football games, and slumber parties. All those things and the people involved were what made me love my hometown. But now those things were all gone. The places, the people, and the events were gone and were now just lingering memories in my mind's cobwebs. It was not my hometown I desired but the memories I made there. For 30 years, I had been chasing that dream of returning home, and when I finally had the opportunity, I found out you really cannot go home again. As it turned out, though, Nick had never been happier in his entire life. He had finally found all he wanted and needed to be content. When I eventually worked up the nerve to tell him how deeply miserable, I was, he was beyond shocked. It turns out I was a surprisingly good actor and had put on quite a performance all this time. To say Nick was completely bewildered by my announcement is an understatement. We ended up arguing for days and weeks about our future. He begged me to reconsider and just give it more time. I agreed to that, but things only got worse and became more agonizing. No matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the fact I wanted to desperately leave town. We decided to try couples therapy, but even that did not work. As much as we tried to fight it, we both saw the writing on the wall. Nick and I had reached an impasse in our lives and relationship. It was clear I hated everything about where we were, and he had never been so happy in his entire life. The two of us concluded we now wanted different things in life, and it was best if we went our separate ways. We were fortunate to sell the clothing business within a short period of time. I then found a job in Pittsburgh and moved back there. Nick kept our house and stayed on in my old hometown. Eventually, he ended up meeting a former high school classmate of mine, and they got married. He was blissfully content, and for the first time in decades, I was content as well. It turns out Steinbeck was right; I could not go home again, but it took going home for me to realize that. It also gave my now ex-boyfriend, Nick, a chance to finally find a place to call home. My former little hometown was now Nick’s little hometown.