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32 Fisher St.

Home has always been 32 Fisher St. I moved there when I was three. I grew up there. No matter where I ended up living at various points in life, 32 Fisher St. remained the default, where I felt most comfortable. It was home. It was a constant.

Living at home this past Summer and planning my third and final trip to Los Angeles to try and give my dreams one last go around, I was always trying to be mindful of where I was. Staying in the present is very hard for me to do just in general. My mind is often distracted with worries of the future. Considering I had tried and failed so many times to make this trip happen, that worry was constant. I still really didn’t think the trip would happen until I reached Wyoming and realized I was finally doing it.

But I knew I needed to take time to look around and be right where I was because 32 Fisher St. wasn’t going to be home for much longer. My parents would be selling it. The trip out west was something I wasn’t going to be able to put off any longer because I wasn’t going to have a place to live if I stayed.

That’s something I try to remind myself. There are factors beyond my control, beyond anyone’s control. This was the sign that the time to make the trek was now. This is more than likely fate, right? I try to put up a steely resolve and do what must be done. It’s how I always try to be.

But now that I’m out here in Los Angeles, I find my heart breaking. Every other trip, no matter what happened, I still had that constant. In a short time, and I truly hope it is a short time because I want my parents be able to sell it and get on with their retirement, they deserve it, but in a short time I will no longer have 32 Fisher St. as a constant in my life. And even though I have many vivid, fond memories of my last summer at home, I still feel like there was a lot of time when I wasn't fully there.

I wish that I had had the ability to see the future and know that this trip was definitely going to happen so I could’ve stopped seeing my life as stalled out these past few years. I spent so much time thinking about how I was a grown man in my thirties, still living at home. Granted that’s just not where anyone should want to be, but right now, I wish I could go back and live the past few years over again.

And this time I’d really focus on every moment and stop worrying about the future. I would spend a lot more time with my parents. As it was, I would see them and be reminded that I was in my thirties and living at home and feel like a failure. It was unfair to them. It was my own insecurity. It wasn’t until much later that I’d realize how fortunate I was to be living under the same roof with them. I’m just glad that realization happened at all.

As with any time in my life, the unpleasant memories seem to disappear and leave only the fond ones. Even things that seemed unpleasant at the time are often recalled much more fondly later on. In hindsight you see how much you’ve grown from the experience. I know in time I’ll be able to think about this past summer without feeling pain but right now, it hurts.

I want more time to look around my house and remember. I want more time with my parents so I can really appreciate what a gift they are. I want more of my Mom's cooking. I want to try more new and weird fast food with my Dad. I want more chances to go running in my woods and exploring all the crazy paths that surrounded us. I want more time with my niece and nephew, even if we’re not doing anything useful, even if we’re just chilling and doing nothing like we did so often and loved it. I want more time with my sisters. I want to watch more football with my brother. I’m greedy. It wasn’t enough time.

But things have to change. All things are temporary. While that applies to the bad it unfortunately applies to the good as well. This is tough for all of us. I know this. But nothing can last forever. It's a part of life. And right now, I’m missing home so badly that I’m perhaps missing out on present memories that will fill me with joy later on.

I’m out of my comfort zone. Every time I’ve been out of my comfort zone, those are the times that I’ve taken a leap forward in life. I keep reminding myself of this. It’s just that every other time, no matter how far I drifted from the familiar, 32 Fisher St. was always there. In a short time this will never be the case again. It will take some getting used to.

At least when I visit my parents in the future it will be in Florida. That ain't half bad.