It has been a while since I participated in the Daily Prompt but this one I felt was one that stood out to me and I felt compelled to write! Which, I guess is the whole idea of the Daily Prompt!
Relocating can bring about so many contrasting feelings.
Excitement about the unknown and new adventure that you are embarking on.
Sadness that you are leaving what and who you know and maybe love.
Anticipation of what is to come in your new surroundings.
Anxiety about the future and what it holds for you.
We have relocated a couple of times over the years. We stayed within our own country, so the familiarity of our surroundings were slightly different but nevertheless, it was not home.
Some places grew to feel ‘home like’ and we even think we would have been quite happy had we stayed. Work transfers brought us back home to Hamilton again and out and back a few times after that but we always made our way back to Hamilton.
The last time we returned, we knew we would stay put. Our kids were of the age where they were forging new friendships and were all in school and we didn’t feel right about upsetting that balance in their lives. Little did we know, that coming back home again would mean so much to us.
We grew a new love and appreciation for our home town (well technically my home town but my husband’s long time home).
As much as relocating is a great way to experience life outside your comfort zone and learn new surroundings, to know there always a place that you hold in your heart as home is a very special thing to have. We were lucky to be able to come back to ours and share it with our family.
I would like to share with you a poem I wrote a while back after returning home to Hamilton.
Home to Hamilton.
The rusting carcasses of the steel mills where the sweat of the iron workers ran like the rushing waterfalls of the city, line the shores.
The north end neighbourhoods emerge out of the wasteland to expose their colourful, vibrant selves alive with the generations that call it home.
In the East, development spreads like wild fire; closer and closer to the vineyards of Niagara. What was once a village has blossomed to encompass all levels of our region.
Escarpment divides and unites at the same time.
The landscape has been altered. Where there were farms, we now have homes. Where there were fields, we now have stores. Where there were trees, we now have roads.
We question if the metamorphosis was necessary, yet we are drawn there with no remorse.
To the West, where entrance was once exclusive, now embraces all cultures, ethnicity and ages to its mature tree lined streets.
Trails run through the city’s weakened wilderness. They are arteries that lead to the heart of the city.
Downtown. Avoided by some, cherished by others.
At the water’s edge, the sailboats’ rigging clangs against the masts.
The breezes blow into the open doors of the galleries guiding the lovers of art.
The smells of the multi cultural cooking fills the air.
The flow of people lead to the park in the core where those who want to be themselves can.
The vast contrast of steel mills and waterfalls, of industry and art, of academia and labour blend to become our home.