I’ve read somewhere that all the cells in our body regenerate every, like, seven years. I’m not sure if it’s true, but it’s an intriguing concept.

My husband and kid and I are on vacation this week, in a place I grew up going and have always called my favorite place in the world. It’s chock full of so many memories that feel so ingrained in me they’re almost encoded in my DNA. Now, we’ve been driving all day, and we’re tired, and we haven’t gone anywhere fun or scenic yet, so that might be part of it…but I’m waiting for that “I’m home” feeling that I’ve always felt when I come here…and it hasn’t hit me yet. We will see how the week goes, and I promise I won’t be so hard on myself. But I remember feeling physically different every time I got here, especially once I moved out of state and came here much less frequently. Just seeing the road signs used to invoke something deep inside, a sense of restorative returning to where I belonged. A sense of…homecoming.

I’m wondering if I felt so much nostalgic comfort from coming back here, because the memories were warmer than my reality at the time. Meanwhile, that’s no longer the case – my reality is pretty great, finally. Maybe I don’t need the nostalgia to keep my spirits afloat anymore. Maybe the nostalgia is almost more painful in turn now.

The last time I was here was six years ago. I was still connected to my mother at the time, still laboring under the illusion that the awful way things were was the way things had to be, and how they would always be. It was on that trip six years ago that my now husband had asked me to marry him. The trip was a great way to have a romantic vacation together while also showing him my roots, in a way I couldn’t do in any other place since I’m such a (repeated) transplant. It was a way to show him the place that made me who I was.

Emphasis on the past tense, perhaps.

Now we’re here again, six years later, and so very much has changed. It’ll be a wonderful week no matter what. But it just…doesn’t seem to feel the same, I don’t think. So far, this place isn’t really the same.

But then again…literally, neither am I.