SurPrise! and a Nostalgic Trip down Memory Lane

We're going to pretend this above reaction is the one when we got when my oldest brother stumbled into a dark room quickly made light, where 20 out of towners were doing our best to make as much obnoxious noise upon his entrance.  Surprise!
And while his face left us a little confused as to whether he was excited or disappointed, there's one thing I know for sure-- I wouldn't even think about robbing his house because homeboy knows how to keep his cool under attack and he will bust your booty quicker than you can say "surprise!"
We were all more than ecstatic to make a trip home to our stomping grounds, the good ole St. Louis Missouri, to celebrate Anthony's 40th birthday. Kids weren't invited which made it a no-brainer quick decision: I was in like sin. No lie, I have the best oldest brother ever, so if any of you ever need tips on how to be the oldest...ask him.

A lot of my brothers and sisters and I have spent next to no time in our hometown in the last 10 years. So it was only obvious that a trip down Memory Lane was in line. And when your parents have more kids than the legal limit {I'm one of seven}, and those kids get married, and everyone is together, there is only one mode of transportation that can accommodate such numbers. Hence....

The Party Bus

We traversed through good ole Fenton, MO like we owned the place. Everyone's pointing fingers were going in different directions, reminiscing on places that housed distinct memories. Where so-and-so's first job was, where Roo so-and-so ran through the intersection without even faking to obey the stop sign, where we used to go to play ball, etc.

We saw where my brother and sister and I were born {my mom was a naturalist of sorts- we were literally born in that house} and the house we were all primarily raised in. My parents moved 10ish years ago so we've had no reason to return.

The school tour was much the same. Although I'll have to say, when it came to the Middle School and High School portions of the tour, I was possibly a more quiet commentator. If you don't have something nice, or polite, or appropriate to say, don't say anything at all. Unfortunately, appropriate didn't make it's way into a lot of my experiences. And so....I didn't say anything at all!

There's something about being transported back to the place of your childhood after being removed for so long. The nostalgia runs deep as you realize all the footwork that took place to project you into that responsible adult role. My kids will probably only ever see that little house on Larkin Williams where I was born through a picture and will never realize it's physical traits. It's a piece of my history that carries no sentiment to them. But yet, something felt so right about posing in front of that house, with the street number in clear sight, and capturing it's existence so that I can pass on that part of me. That's how all these stops felt to me- a trek of capturing my past, imprinting my footsteps. I loved this trip. Do you live in your hometown or have you since moved away? Do you ever go back to visit? I'm super curious about this!