Home Base

Perhaps we can never go home or come home once we have moved away.  And though you know that once you leave, all sorts of things change - people, places and the environment, you can't help but remember the place and people as though it was the same as when you left.  Home is like home base when we played sand lot baseball as kids.  The lot was rough and never the same because during the week, the construction continued on.  But on Sunday mornings when we gathered to play, we always designated home base – solid, steady, always the same, no matter what had happened during the week.  And we set out the rest of the ball field around where home base was set down.  And when you made it round the field, and were able to come into home base, then you knew you were SAFE! and you scored one for the team.

So going home gives me that sense of what might have happened in the meanwhile -- will home still be recognizable, will the cable cars still be running, will Eastern Bakery still be open, will we be able to have the best dim sum in Chinatown, will Golden Gate Park and the tennis courts still be open, will St. Mary's Church still be standing tall and steady, will Grant Ave be packed with shoppers on Saturday, will I still be able to understand my Cantonese language and be able to speak to my relatives, will we still find mom and pop grocery stores on the corner, will the Chinatown playground still be available, will Cafe Trieste still be making the best espresso?  

Will the city be the same as I’ve remembered?  Will it be all different?  What will have changed, or will no longer be there?  What's new?  What's growing and getting better?  I hope that it will not have changed too much, and at the same time, I hope the city is as vibrant and dynamic as ever, and that can only happen with change and growth.

Going home, coming home - home base.