coming home

she pulled her sweatshirt a little tighter, warding off the first evening chill. her bike whizzed by the ornate rock wall entrance to the town cemetery. she smiled to herself as she thought this used to be one of my favorite haunts. the last time she had ridden here had been well over 12 years ago. just like then, she loved the hush of the sleeping cemetery at dusk.  like nothing else since her return, riding in the cemetery was symbolic of coming home to her beloved hometown.

turning out of the cemetery made her think of presley and the long walks they had together morning and night. she missed him and thought how he would have loved coming home as well. she remembered how she was once referred to as "the lady who walks her dog" by a young girl. she liked that description; it fit her quite nicely.

riding uphill toward north washington street she could hear mr. avery commentating the JV football game.  mr. avery, her senior english teacher, had colorfully commentated the games when she was a student here. it was comforting to know that some things never change, one of the things she liked best about living in a small town.

as she headed toward the cute little house she was renting, her soul sang along to the chiming of the christian church chimes. she'd missed that evening melody so much. as she got off her bike, her neighbor from across the street walked over to introduce herself and offer a heartfelt welcome to the neighborhood. she'd missed that kind of friendliness in the city as well. 

as she stepped onto her porch she whispered a little "i'm sorry" out into the universe for those she had hurt and disappointed by making this choice. but in her heart of hearts she knew her truth -- coming home meant being completely true to herself for the first time in a long, long time. and it was so right.