I read an article the other day, someone detailing the pro’s and con’s of going home, and it got me thinking about – my previous life abroad where the town I grew up in no longer exists and the only thing I am left with is the memories of… Living in the top apartment of a 5-story walk up, and the daily bolt and race down the stairs with my brother, and then the counting the steps going back up game we played. Rolling and putting away the area rugs in the summer months, exposing the tiles to help cool down the house naturally. Washing the floors every Friday morning, mostly my mother, while my brother and I played, splashing around barefoot from room to room. The women in the family getting together every Autumn to sun-dry tomatoes, and other vegetables to be used during the harsh winter months. Visiting with the extended families, or walking to the central park  to meet them in an outdoor garden cafe, where we hung out for hours talking and …