I’ve been away. Not to far-off lands for big adventures. Not to new and unfamiliar places. This trip was much closer to the heart. I left my home…to go home.

Home, to the little town where I grew up. I spent the first twenty-five years of my life there, and several scattered years after that. Two-lane highways now boast four lanes or more; traffic lights have replaced stop signs. Shopping courts, restaurants and housing complexes have sprung up where farmer’s fields used to be. In spite of all that, I can get from one place to another there, even if I make a wrong turn along the way. The town has changed, but it still feels familiar.

Home, to see my youngest daughter and her family. Her four children are all grown-up now. The youngest boy is seventeen, and my granddaughter just graduated from high school. That was the reason for the trip. Though distance has prevented me from being the hands-on, involved and attentive grandparent that I imagined I would be, I still love them all dearly. Wherever they are, a piece of my heart is with them.

The graduation party gave me the chance to catch up with each of my grandchildren, and to see old friends, other family members, and friends that used to be family. My ex-husband was there, of course; so was his mother, his sister, and her children. I met my husband when I was sixteen and married him when I was only eighteen. It seems like I grew up with those people. Though I’ve been divorced now over thirty years, in many ways they still feel like family.

Home, to the place where I can gather with the people I was raised with. I had several good opportunities to visit with my sisters over the last several days. We played games; we shared meals and wine and good conversations. I love spending time with them! And, though I said I would not go out of my way to see my brother (since he didn’t go out of his way to see me), I stopped anyway, before heading back up north, for a quick chat and a hug. My brother lives in the house we grew up in, so a visit there is always heavy with memories, too.

So, from Saturday to Tuesday, I was “home.” Now, after a day of travel, I’m back in my own little house on Beaver Island. Home, again.


About cindyricksgers

I am an artist. I live on an island in northern Lake Michigan, USA. I have two grown daughters, four strong, smart and handsome grandsons and one beautiful, intelligent and charming granddaughter. I live with two spoiled dogs. I love walking in the woods around my home, reading, writing and playing in my studio.

8 responses »

  1. I was actually wondering if you might be gone, Cindy. Glad to hear you were able to go back home and have such a nice time. Isn’t it kinda cool that we can have more than one home?

    • Yes, gone, and without my computer. My schedule was pretty hectic, so I didn’t pack any extras. That was a nice change, too. It is nice…sometimes a place feels like home because of the memories; sometimes the people; sometimes the familiar scenery. In Lapeer, it’s a combination of all of those things. Thanks for reading, Kathy,, and for your comments!

  2. Your post has me thinking about how we have homes all over the place. I’m glad you made it safely back to this one and I really enjoyed reading about your original home place and the people who live there too ❤

  3. It’s good to see you home – and wow, you have been through a lot through grief and trying to stay well and enjoying your family, etc… As Dorothy said, ‘There’s no place like home…’

    Enjoy these longer days of summer – especially as we approach this full moon and solstice and then eclipses in July! – All will affect artists and sensitive people! Rest while you can!

    • Thank you for these good wishes and kind observations. I hope all is well with you, too, Lisa! I think of you often in your wonderful home in nature. You are always an inspiration…in caring for the planet, observing your surroundings, speaking out about injustice…and regular art-making! Thanks for all that you do!

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