© 2014 Lynsey


I’d taken our family back to my home town for a visit. I heard their comments and I thought they were somewhat surprised by the many good things on offer there. It’s easy to belittle a place (or a person) that you don’t know much about.

I have my own demons to feed and water about visiting the town where my parents are buried. I lurched between feeling proud, angry, sad, amused, bitter, and content. You can’t go home again. After seeing what the current owners have done to our old family home, going “home” is not an option.

I’ve been lucky enough to have been able to visit many places in New Zealand. As a child my parents packed my sister and I up and we camped our way around the North and South Islands. Looking back I can see that the towns I remembered were the ones where I had an experience in – the Kaitaia rains that forced us to evacuate the tent in the middle of the night, the stunning sunrises in Tokomaru Bay, the trout in the stream somewhere out from Ashburton… the list goes on. Not big significant things, mind you, just blurry little memories that feel like tiny specks of colour on a magical canvas that no-one, not even myself, can ever truly know.

Home towns often come with a special curse – for their children. They suffer from being familiar, humdrum, small, and provincial. I wanted my home town to be more than it was, to offer more. I wanted to get my education there, to get a career there, to have a life and a future there.

I could have. If only I had wanted what my home town had on offer. Unfortunately for us both, I wanted more.

Now when I return to Wanganui I am amazed at the good things that have happened in the town, and how the town has more than managed without me. In some respects I think the town has done better than the people who live there. Other people have defended the town, allowing me and my fellow ex-pats to make our futures outside and away. I’m grateful for their efforts, I think they’ve done well.

03. Every day is an opportunity to reflect on the past.
20. Every day say thank you.
31. Every day mend bridges, bury hatchets, say sorry and move on.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>