Book of D: Nostalgic San Antonio: You Can Never Go Home Again

The adage, "you can never go home again," is from the 1934 Thomas Wolfe novel. The novel was published the same year my late mom was born – just had to add that. Anyway, the saying insinuates that people tend to overlook the negatives in their past because nostalgia often clouds their memories, thus, misleading them to remember the past in an exaggeratedly positive light. Some believe that humans incorrectly remember people, places, events, and such from their upbringing in static terms. Whatever the reason, I am a firm believer that you really can't go home again.

My spouse and I are still in San Antonio, celebrating our wonderful relationship which will be 24 years old on March 19th. While in San Antonio, we went to the rodeo on Friday night and stayed for the after-rodeo entertainment: STYX. On Saturday, we did a lot of shopping and drove to historic Alamo Heights to see how the area has undergone a lot of transformation (house flipping). We talked about how we would like to buy a bungalow in the neighborhood, but we agreed we would prefer a turn-key one versus one we would have to renovate. We hardly have time for home reno these days. Until I am finished with my master's degree in clinical counseling and my PhD in Higher Ed or Philosophy, my time for woodworking or carpentry is en attente. Anyway . . . My spouse and I finished our day's shopping venture at North Star Mall, and I remembered the times I went there with my ex and others. I remembered certain shops and eateries (most are no longer there) that my ex and I used to visit. I remembered the many conversations and bouts of laughter my ex, our friends, and I would have. My wife and I parked our suv in the covered parking garage near the Sea Island (on Rector) restaurant that my ex, her parents, and I loved to frequent. My wife and I had dinner at Tycoon Flats where my ex, her family, and I visited a few times whenever her brother would venture into town. It was kind of surreal at times, but I did not allow myself to get too enmeshed in the memories. While my wife and I dined at Tycoon Flats, we laughed at the cold weather anomoly plaguing San Antonio, and our bullheadedness in not letting the cold beat us; afterall, we are from West Texas where it really gets cold, so we're badass cold-weather-veterans (right?). We agreed to dine outside on the patio at Tycoon Flats; they had outdoor heaters, but they weren't positioned as well as they probably could have been, so our row of tables weren't really being heated very well. My wife and I could definitely feel the chill of the night; the temp was 40°. I ate my Tycoon Flats burger meal in record time. My poor wife was too cold and barely made a dent in her TF burger meal. We paid and left and made our way to the Starbucks closest to our downtown hotel, so we could warm up with vanilla chai lattes. However, the SB was cold, too; the employees were wearing cold weather apparel. I think it was the badly placed drive-thru area that was creating terrible cold, wind drafts in the entire establishment. My awesome wife and I just laughed because we couldn't seem to get away from the cold. So, here are my final thoughts as I blog in bed next to my beautiful wife. While driving around town and visiting/seeing the different venues, I remembered so many of the good times when I lived in San Antonio in the late 80s and early 90s. I finally allowed the memories of the bad times to course through my mind, and I was not sad. I did not allow myself to pivot inward to the point of melancholia; instead, I treasured where I was in my life now and who I was with, and I avoided "the feels." The nostalgia was quickly replaced by gratitude. And although you can never go home again, you can create a different home: a home that is better for you, one that makes you want to be better for your loved ones, and one that is infinitely full of love, compassion, and acceptance.