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Reflections: Going back home

Sometimes I wondered if peace would ever be found for me. It seems that I'd looked for it everywhere, but who'd have thought that I'd find it in Wichita Falls? Going home again after years of distance can be a good place to find serenity, and if you can find it there, you can find it anywhere. This seemed very strange to me. My hometown hasn't been home to me in a very long time, but now and then it would call me back to it. Sometimes I'd have a reunion to attend where I'd see all of my old friends. Other times I'd visit my dad, but never more than once a year. I once believed that when I moved on, I'd never look back again. I'm not sure why I felt that way, but I did.




The town had nothing more to offer me, it seemed. The land is flat and the weather is extreme. It wasn't until my father became ill that I even considered going there for any length of time. He needed my help, so I felt compelled to change my mind. With a sense of obligation, I took that long road back to Wichita Falls.



The fact that I was newly retired, on disability, meant that my days were free to do those obligatory things. Finding the time that I never had before should have been a clue that something more was going on. The very thing that seemed so horrible only a few months before, became a blessing in disguise. Now that I was legally blind, I had more time to spend with my dad. I was thankful for that, but I asked myself, " Why do I have to spend time with him in Wichita Falls?"




It seemed to me that my Dad should live with me. It only made sense. Over and over again, I tried to convince him, but he refused. "Wichita Falls is where I live," he'd say. That town was home to him. To me, it seemed that he could get over it, in time. I thought that soon he'd forget, if he just gave it a chance. The town was filled with the past, and it wasn't the same as before. "None of our family lives here anymore," I'd remind my dad. Still, he never did give in and stayed in Wichita Falls. There, he lived alone.




Watching his health deteriorate, I'd wonder why he refused to see that he needed a lot of help. Stubbornly, he held his ground, so my sister and mother and I took turns going there. In between those times, Donna was always around. An employee and friend, she was more like a daughter to him. Since she lived there in Wichita Falls, it only made sense that Donna would be the daughter I should have been. Determined to take on that role, I went to Wichita Falls as often as I could. Still, it didn't feel


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