The 100 Word challenge is a picture again this week. As an expat torn between two worlds, it evoked all sorts of emotions. I think it was the greenery reflected in the window. After reading you can go and see what it did to the others by clicking on Julia's Place.
Going Home
She always talked about going home. The cottage, a copse, rolling hills, cousins dizzy with happiness and freedom. We slept in the summer house. I'll take you there one of these days.
The children grew up. Three adult fares were out of the question. But she needed to go home.
It wasn't in the depths of the country after all. She found it just past Watford, near the M25. A 1950s semi, quite a big garden with a few trees and a rotting shed - the summer house?
The place was all wrong. But home isn't a place - it's a time.
I love the last line - it's so poignant. This was really cleverly written and well-observed. How often we romanticise our past and are then disappointed by the reality when we go back.
ReplyDeleteI know SJ - it took me a long time to realize this. Thanks for your kind words.
ReplyDeleteHow poignant - home isn't a place, but a moment, a time. it's the people that are around you, the laughter and silliness, the love and sadness. it's difficult to recapture.
ReplyDeletei spent summers at a large house on the west of scotland, surrounded by my extended family - and rain! - i can infact still see my grannie on the steps down from her bedroom. i went back many years later and the house hadn't changed, the familiar smells, the same furniture - and rain! - and it was as if we has stepped back in time, but in essence, the moment was gone, it was never our home but it felt like it while we were there for the summer. perhaps, on reflection, home is where your family is...
(sorry for the ramble... i LOVED this piece x)
e-h-mummy - Yes it could also be where your family is. Once as a pretentious student I used to say: Home is where your books are, but I grew out of that one. Thanks for your comment.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. I love how the memory is so different from the real place, but still very sweet.
ReplyDeleteSparks - is it sweet? I can't decide whether it's sweet or sad.
ReplyDeleteYour last line really speaks to me. I may not be an expat, but I completely relate to the need to go (or find) home. Bittersweet and lovely.
ReplyDeleteGreat last line. I'll remember that one. V true.
ReplyDeleteLove it. And yes, I agree with everyone else - great last line. Isn't it sad that going back sometimes just spins the memories out of focus!
ReplyDeleteThanks you Lisa, Ventahl and Lorely. I think it is true in a way, which is bitterseet because it means you can never go there.
ReplyDeleteI sense reading that, it was written from the heart with knowledge of how it feels to want to go back. Emotional, great!
ReplyDeleteVery evocative, especially the last line, home isn't a place, it's a time. How true! Things are never the same when you go back to them. Everything changes and we all move on. Lovely piece. Polly
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ReplyDeleteI'm reminded of two things here: home is where the heart is; and, a house is not a home. The idea of going back to a house you once called home often brings about a change of heart, and you've captured that beautifully here.
ReplyDeleteA lovely piece of writing & very thoughtful. Like other comments, the last sentence is very thought provoking. I always think of Surrey as home, despite living in Devon, but perhaps it is right, home is a time rather than a place.
ReplyDeleteWell done.
ReplyDeleteVery evocative! I loved this piece.
ReplyDeleteIsn't technology amazing? I recently went onto Google Streetview and took the walk from my old home to school - a route I hadn't taken for over 30 years. So much change but so much the same. However, closing my eyes took me back there again - to that *time*.
What a beautiful piece. Bet Watford never thought it would make it into poetry!
ReplyDeleteLOL - It can get quite poetic in the Harlequin Shopping Centre the week before Christmas!
DeleteThat is great! I love it. I also have childhood memories that have been elaborated on over the years. I don't think I'll go back to see those places now, but keep them safe and warm in my heart. Lovely!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, don;t forget you're stuck on a desert island with me and some hand-picked others (see my blog)
ReplyDeleteThought provoking piece, how our memories can trick us. Reminds me of a poem by Valerie Bloom- refuelling- when she remembers eating locusts as a child...the reality not quite so good as the memory!.
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed reading this piece. Sounded true.
I really love the last line as it is so true. Fabulous writing.
ReplyDeleteHi I think your blog is very interesting and you have every right to post whatever you want- but we have not heard lately very much about your "IVF journey"- any chance u want to post about that further?:-)
ReplyDeleteAnonymous - you are right and it's been on my mind for weeks to get back to it. I'll do it this week. Thanks for the push.
ReplyDeleteLove that last line, I think a lot about why I don't feel like I am totally 'at home' in the place I am now. Perhaps I have moved on in time?
ReplyDeleteMy childhood home was the same 'huge' house for 40 yaers before my Dad sold it - memories of my Mum too much to bear in those walls.
ReplyDeleteMy OH has family in Canada and naturally wants us to move out there. I'm willing .... but part of me feels I will struggle to leave .... content with the holidays there in the meantime.
But, my children need a place to have the memories I did and I know they are more likely there - a summer house just like the one you describe could be their tale to tell one day.
This was a interpretation I was not expecting and so a pleasure to read
Enjoyed reality bumping on a memory, Robin
ReplyDeleteWhat a great piece. Taking us through her memory, then the twist at the last minute. I love the last line. x
ReplyDeleteHonieBuk - not an easy decision to make. Good luck.
ReplyDeleteRobin and Susuan - memory versus reality sometimes poses a conflict of interests. And the winner is n ot always the most helpful.
I wasn't expecting the ending but it makes such sense. I'm sure we all have those places that provide us with memories that don't quite match up. Powerful writing!
ReplyDeleteThank you Julia, I sometimes think that memory has a life of its own quite seperate from anything that really happened.
ReplyDeleteGSussex
ReplyDeleteI like the depth to this piece. How the house/home was described and then found when visited . . Great post!
Thanks Gill. :)
ReplyDeleteI said you got me thinking and gave you a mention here: http://dughall.posterous.com/walking-to-school
ReplyDeleteThankyou Dughall - it looks like your pituresque memories lived up to the promise.
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