Why is it when I travel to my parents house, I am instantly transported to feeling like I am in elementary school? Even though it isn’t the house of my childhood, the nostalgia is the same. Their new house was built in 1919 and has all the qualities and character of houses of yore. As soon as I pull up and see that red-tile roof, I feel as if it is Christmas morning and I am 6 years old.
I traveled this weekend to Philadelphia via Richmond, to see my baby sister in her element. I can’t believe we came from the same parents because she is complete opposite of me! A big dreamer, big planner, and big go-getter, she is one of the most driven individuals I have eved met. She is the city girl, where I am the country girl. She is themost goal oriented gal, and she has worked so very hard to be where she is.
However, the four of us walking around Philadelphia again instantly transported me to past family vacations (minus our brother, Banks) parents leading and kids following in tow. Does that emotion and feeling ever leave, even though we are all grown? I certainly hope not, for however grown up we are, we all need our parents.