Hey! Did You Hear Me? I Said You Can Never Go Home Again. Got it?!

Tempted By The View In The Rear View Mirror

At one time or another, I think we all get tempted to revisit our pasts and reopen old wounds—even when we know we shouldn’t. In 2014—a good three years after my husband left—I did just that. I was still living in my home state. I’d not moved yet. One day I was bored, so I got in my car, turned up my music, and drove about 90 miles to visit the suburb where Casper and I lived for several decades.

Morbid curiosity beckoned me back there, even though I knew in my higher mind that ‘that’ life had been obliterated. But we do wax nostalgic sometimes when it’s a slow news day, don’t we? Well, thankfully, when we do stupid things, sometimes God watches out for us and acts to quickly give us a nudge when we need it most.

This is what I believe happened that day.

A Coincidence Or A Celestial Intervention?

As I exited the outerbelt and was driving on the secondary roads leading to our former  subdivision, my attention was drawn to the song that was playing through the sound system from my ITunes collection. The irony of the lyrics jumped out at me. Extremely eerlily, as if the lyrics had fingers, they were tapping me on the shoulder and saying “Pay attention, there’s a message here. Don’t miss it.” All I can say is that it was a very surreal experience.

The song’s lyrics were narrating where I was and exactly what I was doing! What are the chances of that happening, and having it happen so very precisely?!

As I turned onto my old street, I got gooseflesh. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up as Tom Petty sang to me … “Stop walking down my street” … “Who do you expect to meet? … Hey! Don’t come around here no more!”

It was as if an unseen Presence was telling me NOT to romanticize anything about my past, and to deep-six all files related to Casper, this town, or any of the people it represented. Something much greater than me had already intervened, plucking me from a life and a marriage that had been on a collision course with destiny from the start. I needed to accept that.

Okay, Okay. I Got The Message, I’m Leaving!

Giving an acquiescing “mea-culpa” nod of surrender, I made the decision to terminate any further indulgence of my runaway curiosity and fangirl longing for my mirage of a past. I located the next convenient driveway and proceeded to begin turning my car around.

As I did, my eyes were drawn to the parking lot of a nearby church. I noticed several large bouquets of BLACK balloons being released. They had just started to rise above the roof line. Double confirmation [!] that I should not be doing this, I thought to myself.

Requiem For The Past

I turned off the car engine and sat there in silence—reverently watching those black balloons as if I were respectfully waiting for a funeral procession to pass. When the last balloons drifted out of sight, I restarted the engine to leave.

Certain that I had been given two distinct ‘signs’ of confirmation that it was time to finally close the lid on the coffin of nearly 30 years of that history—I left that city with a much lighter heart.

Sometimes Reality Slaps The Stupid Out Of Us, For Us

On my drive to get there, I had been mentally struggling—wishing I could wake up and discover that everything had just been a bad dream. My mindset was that if given the chance to snap my fingers and make it all as if it had never happened and go back to my life with Casper—I would have done so in a heartbeat. I would have given anything to stop the pain of such blatant and public rejection.

As I drove back home, I noticed that I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Granted, my full recovery didn’t happen overnight, but from that day forward, the intense anguish and intractable grief over Casper’s ghosting began to diminish—and continued to do so.

At The End Of The Day

I guess the takeaway here is that when we are living too much in our heads—and we fall victim to the tug of our heartstrings and want to turn back toward what is not good for us—we sometimes get sent a little extra help from Above.

To that, I want to say thank to my guardian angel(s), and at the same time, apologize for that 90 mile detour.


Here is the video I made of this song when I got back home. Listen to how eery the words are, in light of my circumstances and the exact timing. I used pictures of our neighborhood, surrounding streets, parks, businesses we frequented, and the general community. I hope you enjoy it.

Let me know if you liked it, and also comment below if you’ve ever succumbed to the draw to ‘go back home’ again when you knew you shouldn’t.

4 Comments on “Hey! Did You Hear Me? I Said You Can Never Go Home Again. Got it?!

  1. I love that video. And I also love Tom Petty. It’s amazing – that particular song playing on your destination-past trip. See, this is why I don’t shuffle songs; I’m not trying to get divine intervention when I’ve made up my mind to visit the past lol.

    Funnily enough, I married my first loves brother. My brother-in-law and I have so many memories from our teen years, that it’s ridiculous. Sometimes, I will drive through our old neighborhood just to revisit childhood, and how it all felt to not know what kind of devastation await my teenage self. Living in the past is never a good thing, but I do think sometimes it’s healthy to visit the past and grieve it again, if necessary. Letting go is the hardest.

    Like

    • I know. On the subject of music, isn’t it interesting how just hearing a song can instantly transport you back to a certain place in time, complete with all those feelings and memories, etc.? You hear something on the radio and you’re like, “9th grade … ironing my hair in my bedroom … terrible crush on Rick Butler” or something like that. LOL

      Of course my genre of music growing up is stuff that the younger crowd apparently hasn’t heard of. I remember being at work one day when Bob Seger’s ‘Against The Wind’ came on overhead and I told my staff, “Shhh .. everyone be quiet for a second … it’s Bob Seger”.

      My young receptionist looked like a deer in the headlights and said, “Who’s Bob Seger?”

      That’s when I knew I’d officially crossed into old age and that I was no longer relevant. Smile.

      Liked by 1 person

      • These poor kids. That’s why it’s our job to teach them the greats. I was born in 85, but my love of 40’s – 80’s music knows no bounds. My 15 year old tried to play “Don’t Stop Believin'” as if this whack-a-do artist was the OG of this greatness, and I had to school her on Journey.

        This music today makes me literally cringe with regret. *sighs* I’m inching my way into the “older” club, and by God I will be just fine going there.

        Like

      • I saw a program one time [don’t remember the name] but they were voting on the best music of all time. The 80’s won, even with the votes of today’s group. Once they hear it, they like it.

        My kids grew up with it, and the ones who are not deaf from sitting in the back set by the speakers, all love it. Ha ha

        Liked by 1 person

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