Homecoming

Sunrise over the Badlands in South Dakota - taken on my vacation.

They say you can never really go home again. I suppose that’s true. In the sense that things will always have changed. Nevertheless, I feel called to go home to my beloved Black Hills of South Dakota at least every other year. My parents still live there so it’s always great to see them as often as I can (thank goodness for Skype so we can connect more regularly than my face-to-face visits.)

I had been looking forward this year’s vacation for many months. There’s always a sweet homecoming when I get to spend time in the Black Hills and with my parents. What struck me as interesting, is that a few days before I was to depart, I had this pull – no, more like a compelling cosmic command – to make a side trip to see my grandparent’s graves. I felt an overwhelming sense of longing to be in the town where I spent so many holidays and summers with them. So I made arrangements to stay the night there and I had no idea how profoundly sad, joyful, and healing it would be.

I have traveled across South Dakota on roads that have been etched into my very hands. I remember every curve, every exit, every sign post on that journey. I love traveling across the state because I am an awe of the vastness of these wide open spaces. They represent for me the open, peaceful, spacious state of mind that I strive to cultivate in my very being.

I drove across the prairie and down into the Missouri River Valley to arrive at my destination. I went to the local grocery store, which I remembered fondly as being called the Red Owl store previously, where I would beg for a quarter to ride the mechanical pony outside when my grandmother would take me shopping. This time I stopped to buy roses for her gravesite, her favorite flower.

I then drove past the many familiar streets to find the beautiful cemetery overlooking the Missouri river. There were ancient oaks that seem to be like guardian angels watching over our beloved dead.

I found my grandparent’s gravesite, sat down, and wept.

You see, I was not able to attend either of their funerals, which I deeply regretted. It really couldn’t have been helped though. Walking out the door to attend my grandmother’s funeral, I had twisted my ankle so hard that I was sure I had broken it. Unable to drive with that injury, I was resigned to staying home. When my grandfather passed many years later, there was a blizzard that closed the interstates so I was unable to drive there and be with my family and say my goodbyes.

Strangely enough, I feel like my grandparents had higher wisdom, knowing that it really wasn’t necessary for me to be there, particularly because of all the family drama that they were trying to protect me from. Nevertheless, I still wish I had been there, for them and for me. So, now that I had finally arrived to be with them, alone, my heart cracked open again.

All of the memories came flooding back to me, of Christmases and summers on the river, of Holiday meals, and lots of laughter and love. It dawned on me that this was one place where I felt adored, and I could relax and just be a kid. I remember that my grandmother loved when I played the piano in the big dining room, her favorite song was Send in the Clowns by Sondheim. Both of them loved music and theater, and she often would say that she would love to have someone sing this song at her funeral because she thought it was both funny and appropriate.

I sat down at their gravesite, and I sang to her and my grandfather. He was always my biggest fan and turned me on to jazz and swing music. She was a Sagittarius, and I am a Sagittarius moon, so we share this love of adventure, art, and freedom. They gave me so many gifts throughout my life, and there are simply no words for how grateful I am.

It was hard to leave, but a yellow butterfly floated in front of my vision and landed right near my car as if to say “it’s time to go now”. I was glad that I came, glad that I was able to honor them in my special way, but I won’t lie and say that it was easy. Closing the book on an era of your life is like an earthquake through your heart, sending a tsunami of emotions through you. I had even stopped by their old house, and was a little sad to find that someone knew was living there. I hope they know how special that house is.

The next morning, I got up before the sun as I was continuing my journey West. I decided to make a stop off at the Badlands National Park to watch the sunrise (see the photo above - I’ve never before captured such a perfect shot of this beautiful landscape). Both my grandparents were avid outdoors, people, and inspired our families love of nature. To see the sunrise on this ever-changing landscape, on this particular morning seemed to whisper to me that there is always a new day, and you carry your loved ones in your heart.

In this way, we don’t ever go home again. We come to realize that we are home.