*Read Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 of Returning whence I came...

Home is where one starts from.

-T.S. Eliot

Reaching for the brass door handle, creates a sensation which conjures memories, not too distant nor in obscurity. It is a place I am familiar with, a place I found employment. Two years since I had last set foot in this establishment. Nothing has changed. The look, feel, even smell, remain unchanged. It is as if time stood still, these passing years. It is all too familiar. 

The door edges inward, to reveal bright and effervescent lights, cascading illumination upon the fixed faces of familiar friends and family. No detail facial feature left unexposed, before it's equivocal gaze. Joy is shone upon their shimmering faces. Excitement resides in their smiles. Their joy invokes a contagious laughter, which fills the atmosphere.

Ah laughter, it sweetens the air.

Covered in joy. Neither stagnant emotion, nor failed frustration can take root. Decaying bitterness, no longer swarms my nostrils. 

Handshakes and hearty-hugs are a welcomed exchange. I feel at such peace, and my conversations feel organic. Intriguing. The words conveyed feel natural, personal, real. It feels as though hope was not differed. 

I am back home.

::Author's Note::

 Last Sunday's wedding shower, was a breathe of fresh air, inhale into my lungs. I felt energized, forsaking all fears and frustrations, which may have lingered. All those who showed up to support us, bequeathed such life into me, of which, I had never felt before. Redemption came and reigned high throughout our time in my hometown.

I felt as though I could have spent a few more days there. I think that there is more hope in this transition. Or maybe, I am looking at transition through clear lens, rather than rose-tinted glasses.