While pondering on this topic, I asked a couple of my colleagues where they'd choose to go for a getaway. The response was overwhelming. Some said the Maldives, beach, international travel and tours and all sorts so when I said I'd live to go home- to my family, they all wore a stern look on their faces staring blankly at me as if I needed a rethink. But I have my reasons and so did they. Choosing a getaway location doesn't come without critical thinking. For me, I'd thought about my choice over and again. Home is where my heart belongs at the moment and not even a 'paid-for' trip can make me reconsider.
Recently I've been homesick. I long for those days in school when I'd hope that my exams were over so I could get on the next flight to my home just to hook up with old friends with whom we shared our experiences.Those were days when I made all my decisions by myself not now, when one superior has to call the shots somehow. Nevertheless, if I were to plan a getaway for myself, I'll choose to pay a visit to my family- my dad.
Family means different things to different people. But to me, it is that bedrock where I was formed. Ignoring one's family, is like pretending to suffer from amnesia and that for me, is a big loss and the height of self-deceit. It is amazing how time flies. How kids become grown adults and how life places so much responsibility on us. This responsibility makes us see a need to part ways in search of green pastures and to find our path in life. Like my friends, I could choose to go sightseeing on international travels and tours, but because I am nostalgic about home, I'd rather spend time with family and friends.
I miss those days when I and my siblings and friends would sit in the sand building sand castles, cooking fake dishes, acting fake roles and playing hide and seek games. Then, we had no responsibility, no one looking up to us for their survival, no mouths to feed. They were those moments when we chose happiness over food. In our minds we thought we would remain forever young.But time changed everything. I yearn for those moments when we'd return home home from school and explore all forms of nasty plays that form the core my memories today. We were like little angels playing with no intention of harming anyone, just having fun made our day.
If I had the chance to go home even for a moment, I'll walk into the sitting room, to the wall frame that housed Ann Taylor's poem, "My mother," which I had always recited playfully as a child and recite it again, but this time, slowly, meditatively, knowing that my mother is no longer here to see me recite it to her hearing.
I'll spend every moment laughing and pulling jokes, reminscing.Every moment would count because I'd be surrounded by family, the first group of friends I had and will have till the end of time. Getting away to my family and friends in my home would be worthwhile...
