Monday, May 18, 2009

Going Home


Going home means different things to different people. It depends on where home is. Or where home feels like it is. Or just where your heart feels at home. We moved a lot when I was little, so I don't feel like I have a real "home town" as such. But when I go to my mom's in West Tennessee, I consider that "going home". I was born and raised in West Tennessee. I spent the first 27 years of my life there. I always felt like that part of the country was the flattest, dullest place on earth.



When I lived in Texas several years later, I learned the true meaning of "flat". And over the course of moving around the country during my married years, I came to see that boring land of West Tennessee as peaceful, serene, rolling hills of "home". It's amazing how time and circumstances can totally alter your perspective. When you "go home", home never feels the way it felt when you lived there. It will always feel different, but the same.

So, I was home on a very quick trip to see my niece get married. To me, she will always be four years old. But in reality, she is actually now 21 and a married woman. I was so excited to get back to my house and load the pictures on the computer. And so disappointed when I saw they were all horrible. The light in the room was low, and I guess I did not have a steady hand. The only really good picture I took is of the cake, because it was sitting still. The only other half-decent ones are my nephew. So here is the wedding from the perspective of an eight-year-old.




Mitchell shows me the "special walk" that he plans to use in his role as Ringbearer. Thankfully, he did not actually walk this way during the ceremony!















Being all boy, there were many places to explore before the wedding started. Tuxedo? What tuxedo?!






Mitchell had time to take a few calls before the ceremony. (That's my little brother there, Mitchell's dad, father of the bride.)












And this is how an 8-yr-old spends the wedding reception!



The newlyweds should be in Paris by now. I wanted to tell her about the flea markets, but didn't think she would be interested! Back to the real world for me....

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