There is a famous saying that claims once you leave home, you can never go back. It wasn’t until I was an adult who returned to living at home during the pandemic that I understood this phrase. You can always go back, but it’s not the same as it was. You can’t go back to being a kid. The memories you have growing up in your childhood home are completely different from the new ones you make when you return. 

I think this is true of all memories, not just the ones compartmentalized to your childhood home. Any significant period of your life has a certain magic to the memories. But, returning to that place does not make the magic come back. Just a quick visit to your old high school is a great example of this. You can walk the halls, talk to old teachers, sit on the bleachers where you cheered during football games & maybe snuck your first kiss, but it doesn’t feel the same as it did in those four short years of your life when you felt invincible. 

Joseph & I started the seventh day of our honeymoon to try to experience an old memory of mine – we ran across the Golden Gate Bridge, just as I did with a team of amazing people two summers ago. It was the beginning of our run across the country, which we did with the Ulman Foundation to support young adults with cancer. 

I remember how that first run felt. I remember the exhilaration & the excitement I experienced, unsure yet what the summer would bring but knowing the journey ahead would be momentous & memorable. 

Today’s run was not momentous. We stood in that chilly, misty San Francisco air just as I had done before, clicked our watches to start tracking our run, & started the trek up the steep hill to the bridge. It took my breath away, just as it had before, & my legs sighed in relief when we reached the flatter grade of the bridge. The mist was so thick, the long suspension ropes leading to the tall, red towers disappeared entirely into a thick cloud above our heads. 

The run across the bridge was fast, & before I knew it, we were back at our car, starting the long drive north to the Redwoods National & State Parks. As we drove over the bridge we had just run across, a bittersweet feeling seeped into my stomach. I had wanted to relive the memory, but this was simply just revisiting. My team members were not here with me, & we were not about to travel across the entire country, our legs carrying us & hearts keeping us going in the fight against cancer.

The drive to the redwoods was uneventful but exciting. I have wanted to see the redwood trees since I was a little girl & read about them in a book. When I had participated in the 4K for Cancer run, I had been disappointed that I came all the way to California & missed seeing the majestic trees. 

Our Airbnb was a camper within Redwood National & State Parks. We got settled into what was by far the most unique Airbnb we had stayed in yet, & then drove off into the setting sun to just catch a glimpse of the views we planned on hiking to tomorrow.

To say that redwood trees are big is an understatement. They are enormous. Our entire wingspan combined didn’t even stretch around half of the base of one of the trees. The trees reached high into the sky as well, basking in the sun’s light. Inside, all I felt was the giddy joy of my 5-year-old self, finally standing at the foot of the redwood trees I had read about. 

Memories cannot be relived, but that’s what makes them so special. You only get to have one first kiss or one first dance. You only have your first day at school, your first time you win an award, your first time running across the Golden Gate Bridge, & your first time seeing a redwood tree. But what makes those moments memorable is the fact that they only happened once, or because they it was the start of something special that happened again & again. It was the start of a your first cross country adventure. It was the start of your career. It was the start of your love story. 

Running across the bridge & experiencing Joseph’s first time traversing it had been fantastic & memorable in its own way. It was not the same as running it with my team, but it wasn’t supposed to be. That moment is sacred & special in its own way, & it should stay that way.

One of the best things about memories is that we are always forming new ones. Dreams are fulfilled, goals are accomplished, & sweet surprises fill our lives every day. Today, wrapping my arms around the redwood tree, feeling the rough bark beneath my fingertips & ear pressed against the trunk, listening for the hum of life inside, was a dream come true & a memory I have been waiting to create for years. 

Remembering may be bittersweet, but the new memories I am creating in this moment – life has never tasted sweeter.