I called my sister last night to see how she was doing after
the first chemo treatment (so far, so good) and she said our
Uncle Kenny was there. He asked to talk to me and the first
thing he said was, "How ya doin', kiddo?" and instantly I
flashed back umpteen years and I could see his wonderful
smile and the constant twinkle in his eyes. It also dawned
on me that I use that same greeting...because of him.
That part of him is a part of me.
I asked him how he'd been and his response was
"Oh, you know, for 82 not so bad. They can't keep a
good Hunky down." We both laughed in agreement.
I'm only half Hunky (Hungarian) from my mom's family,
but it's strong in me. Hearing him reminded me of that.
The next thing he said was "I'm glad to hear you're
coming home to help your sister. Your mom and dad
would be happy, too." That brought a lump to my throat
but it took until much later before I really figured out why.
Later that day, I had to run an errand and after I
got back in my car, I just sat there and thought of
Uncle Kenny again and our conversation.
I've lived here almost 38 years and I've always said
that it never felt like home, it was just someplace to live.
Not home.
Right that second, it felt like something kicked me
in the heart and the tears started to flow.
Then, I heard myself say "I'm going home." Now I'm
sobbing and I keep saying "I'm going home."
Over and over I repeat that, out loud.
And I'm looking up as I continue to cry "I'm going home."
Home.
I'm going HOME.
Feeling not quite at home here makes sense now.
The most important part of me never left home.
Home.
I'm going HOME.
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