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This past week I spent one very nostaglic week in the area where I grew up in rural Iowa (with my family). I was able to show my children (and my husband) where I attended grade school and high school . . . the hills I used to sled down in winter . . . the swimming pool where I won boxes of blue ribbons . . . the parks I played in . . . the location where I ate ice cream . . . where my old house used to stand (it has since been demolished for condos) . . . my old church where I was baptized and received my first communion . . . and many, many more old haunts.

This was a very emotional trip for me . . . I was able to share deep, cherished memories with my children. I moved from the very small, rural area that  I grew up in the day after I graduated from high school. And I literally never returned. I was stifled in the small community and wanted to spread my wings. I did indeed spread my wings for the next 25 years.

I saw my aunt for the first time in 25 years and the words out of her mouth, whispered in my ear as she hugged me, were "you came home, finally".

Being around the area where I grew up was wonderful. I was smiling all week and really felt quite free. Like I was relasing something . . . it's hard to articulate what I was feeling exactly. I never felt like I belonged to part of anything while growing up in rural Iowa. I had a hard time fitting in . . . but once I moved to the Big City . . . I found where my heart needed to be. I haven't left my beloved Chi-town since and I likely won't.

I'm a city girl, born in the country, who returned to her roots for a week of Summer Time Fun!

Home Town Fun

My Husband Hates Taking Photos With Me