travel-blogue Day 2

The Old Home

I have not been back at my parents’ house for 24 hours yet. This is the place where I grew up. I lived here for 22 years of my life. That being said, I do not feel a nostalgic connection to my parents’ house. It might be because it does not feel like the place I grew. It does not even feel like the place I left seven years ago to move out west.

I think that is because my parents have been living here all that time. The house has been changing along with them in that time. It does not look like a place where a family with eight children lives. It looks like a place where three adults live. My old bedroom is not a monument to me. It does not look like it did when I was in high school. It was converted to an office/storage room a long time ago.

When I walk around the house I think about the last few times I visited not back when I was growing up. There are very few things around that spark memories of way back when. I think that is a good thing. I come here to visit my family, not to revisit the past. I think that is healthier in the end.

The quality of the light

There is something different here about how things look. As I drove to the airport with my father to pick up my aunt I noticed it. I want to say there is something about the quality of the light here. I am not sure if this is true or just perception. I want to say the air is different because of less smog. It is colder and windier here right now. Maybe that does something. I always have the feeling that things look different here then in San Jose.

Travel Notes

-I had forgotten how back dialup sucks.
-I wish my parents had Wi-Fi
-For some reason toast always tastes best at my parents house.
-Driving with my father I saw lots of things to take pictures of, but I could not stop with him because he would not understand.


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