Wolfe You Simply Cannot Go Home Again

In 1940, Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel entitled, You Can't Go Home Again, in which the primary graphic symbol says:

"Y'all can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood...back home to a young man's dreams of celebrity and of fame...back home to places in the country, dorsum home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Fourth dimension and Memory."

While I don't want to get into a literary argument with Mr. Wolfe, let me say that I disagree with the premise. If going home once again means that you can't return to a place at another fourth dimension, and find everything exactly the aforementioned, then peradventure he was right. Withal, not if 1 approaches life in a more than optimistic manner and understands that while some things may modify, some things remain the aforementioned, and some things might be fifty-fifty better.

When my youngest daughter turned three, and her older brother was four-and-a-half, nosotros outset began going to a Family unit Camp at Fallen Leaf Lake in Northern California. The military camp consists of approximately 52 cabins, from one to iii rooms, respectively holding 2-10 people, and a Society with 12 single rooms. At that place was a large dining hall with iii gargantuan meals served per day, and wine and beer bachelor for purchase at dinner. The staff consisted of a few older adults, but mainly undergraduate students with enormous amounts of inventiveness, energy, and irreverence.

Children were assigned to groups based upon their age with such names as Munchkins, Snoopers, and Menahunies. Each group was led by two or more students who engaged the children in a multifariousness of activities ranging from swimming, boating, hikes, fine art projects, and games. Every bit a effect, we adults were able to practice whatever we wanted, including some of the same activities that our children were engaged in merely different; a 5 60 minutes hike upward to find a hidden waterfall carrying our own lunches and water, for case.

There were also fine art projects for the parents; again, led by incredibly talented and artistic students. In that location were beach parties, cookouts, barbecues, lawn tennis tournaments and the similar while two evenings during the calendar week, selected faculty gave presentations. Overall, the days were filled, and at the diverse meals which were served buffet style at large tables, we were able to meet new people, some of whom became friends, some of whom did not.

Cabins were sparse but adequate. Each and every one had a porch which meant nosotros could go out and look at the incredible views of the lake and mountains, encounter and kibbitz with our neighbors, and do a lot of things, or only practice nothing. The lake was cold, sometimes very cold, but our children didn't seem to mind, and being in our late 30s and early on 40s, neither did we.

Source: Morton Shaevitz

There was no idiot box, except for ane year when nosotros were there during the Olympics, when a single television was brought into a large conference room so we could meet the competition. This was earlier prison cell phones, so the pay phones in the principal lobby area were used as needed. There were no phones in the individual cabins or rooms, and while newspapers were available for purchase during our stay, they were usually a day tardily. So, in some sense, we were totally in 'the here and now' and fully committed to our partners, our new and returning friendships, our children, and being in a cute rustic environment.

Nosotros went for a calendar week every year for 15 years until our youngest daughter graduated loftier school, went off to higher, and had other things that she wanted to do with her summers. Our lives were hectic and busy as we developed our careers, were involved in such mundane things such as buying a business firm, being a blended family since I had been previously married and had ii older children and getting on with life.

I suspect that many of the readers of this web log have had similar experiences with their children where they returned to favorite places on a regular basis, and only stopped when children grew up. Just even if you lot didn't, I'm certain that there were some special times in some special places that you yearned to re-experience simply were afraid information technology might not be the same.

Fast forward 20 years and things have changed. Our youngest daughter is now in her mid-30s. Our youngest son is now in his late 30s and has recently married and is talking virtually having children.

How about returning to camp?

Swell idea!

Go online.

Oops – It'due south not as piece of cake as we idea. Lots of other people who had been yearly devotees are wanting to go back to camp and there is a waiting listing.

Five years after, we finally brand it off the waitlist merely only for the last week which is totally devoted to families with babies and very young children. At that signal, we take a granddaughter who is iii years one-time, the same historic period as when nosotros first began going to camp with our youngest daughter. Nosotros asked our youngest son if he was interested in going back to camp with his three-year-old daughter and we asked our youngest daughter if she was interested in coming back to camp again.

Wahoo!

They both said yes with a few caveats nearly when they would be arriving and when they would be departing which and then allowed us to also invite other family unit members who had previously been at the camp in the good old days.

Then now what?

Previously, we could fly to the South Lake Tahoe airport and either hire a automobile or be picked upward by army camp buses and in an hour, be at the camp. Now, we had to wing to Reno from iii different places, San Diego, Indianapolis, Indiana, and Los Angeles, coordinate arrival times, rental cars, and then face up a three-60 minutes ride to campsite. Not terrible, only not the same. Fortunately, our three-year-old granddaughter came running off the aeroplane with her father smile, bouncing, and maxim, "When do we get to campsite?" Merely a few hours after, we arrived, and you know what?

Information technology was the aforementioned.

It was dissimilar.

Source: Morton Shaevitz

Perhaps what was nigh important was what I had forgotten, and what was the same:

• How quiet information technology was when I was outdoors and a 15-minute walk from the main Gild.
• How beautiful information technology was as I looked over the lake that I had gazed at many, many times earlier.
• How many things came back – not and so much memories, but feelings, and I establish myself tearing up.
• How the student staff and counselors were the aforementioned, simply not the same. In conversations, they seemed older and wiser than the students were 30 years ago.

Then, after we checked in, and ordered newspapers for the calendar week (and they would exist coming the same day), we walked up to our cabin. I hadn't realized how hilly the campsite was, and even though nosotros were fortunate enough to get a cabin close to the main lodge and dining room, information technology was difficult to walk up that hill and up two flights of stairs. Information technology didn't seem that way then, but information technology certain seemed that manner now.

Inside the motel, everything was the same, but dissimilar. Still no phones which was adept. The rooms had been spiffed up, but not changed. The shower, bathtub, toilet, and sink were new and nicer, and our room keys and name tags now hung on a metal chain, rather than the lanyards that I remembered. The shutters did a better chore of keeping out the low-cal. In that location were lots of plugs, non simply one, so that nosotros could charge our laptops, iPads, smart phones. And, the camp had Wi-Fi – both a approval and a curse.

So, I could stay continued with the outside world, receive and transport emails texts, and even talk by phone.

Wasn't that great!

Wasn't that awful!

Wasn't it user-friendly!

Wasn't it intrusive!

I also institute out, but not until the last 24-hour interval, there was actually a computer heart with five machines, a printer, and all of that stuff that we need, beloved and hate, and can't be without, and wish we could and, and, and. But enough of this grousing. What was information technology really similar to exist there?

Going to dinner was the first shocker. It was pretty clear that I was one of the oldest people at that place, and my wife a close second. The food was abundant and varied, but clearly aimed at the tastes of the children rather than the adults – hamburgers, fried chicken, mac and cheese. Since during this concluding week of the season in that location were only small children, fifty-fifty though at that place were fewer people in total, the noise level was incredible, exhilarating, exciting, overwhelming, and deafening.

The first evening, nosotros met someone who remembered having our daughter as a member of his grouping when he was a camp counselor. He turned, identified usa equally grandparents, said that he wished his own parents were here, and after a bit is persuading, chosen them upwards, and they arrived the next day.

Score one for the older developed generation.

Then, I could focus on all of the things that I used to be able to exercise that I couldn't do. Then, I would waterski both morning time and evening, become out on a sailboat (getting marooned when the wind dropped more than than once), take 4- to 6-mile hikes without a second thought, and enter the lawn tennis tournament (which I always lost).

Source: Morton Shaevitz

Now, although I'm in excellent wellness, I likewise take a few challenges; the most important ane being residual. So, no waterskiing, but kayaking. No sailing merely taking the family unit out on a pedal boat; no five-mile runs before breakfast, merely a ane-60 minutes walk to the firehouse and beyond, with a lot of it uphill. Non worrying about eating in terms of book, but now focusing more than on salads, only one drinking glass of vino with dinner, passing on dessert and choosing fruit instead.

As my people say, "Could be worse!"

The residue of the week went past slowly and yet blazingly fast. Birthdays were celebrated in the dining hall by students presenting the birthday boy or girl, man or adult female, grandfather or grandmother, with a special cake and a happy birthday vocal delivered in a way that only enthusiastic undergraduate students can evangelize. At ane evening effect, I got up and sang loudly to a whole group of kids, parents, and grandparents every bit role of the skit that the students were putting on. I attended a lecture and engaged the professor in a respectful but challenging way.

So, I promise you go it. If you accept a risk, with deference to Mr. Wolfe, for goodness sake, Get Abode Again.

And when yous practice, go with an open up mind, and an open heart, and don't be eager to point out all the things that accept changed for the worst. In an earlier blog entitled How to Not Be a Grumpy Old Homo, or Woman (hyperlink), I pointed out that it was very easy to see things through a negative prism and complain. When I gave a talk to a grouping of retired executives about this topic, one gentleman got up and said:

"And no more also's!: It's likewise cold! It's besides noisy! Information technology's too crowded! It's likewise nighttime! It's too stuffy!"

Bask every new feel, gustation every nutrient you've never tried before, engage with your peers, with your children, with anybody who'southward at that place to brand your experience more interesting, and more challenging.

Savor the moments!

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Source: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/refire-don-t-retire/201810/you-cant-go-home-again

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