Returning, But Not Quite Home.

When a place holds your memories, but no longer feels like yours.

Last week we went back to Kansas City.

It was the longest stretch of time I’ve spent there in years. Usually, my visits are quick. Fly in, see a client, maybe see a friend and my in-laws, and fly out. But this time it was different; this time we were there to spend quality time with family.

We hadn’t been back since my father-in-law’s funeral three years ago. My husband had not returned, nor had the kids. This trip was very intentional; it gave us time to be with family and revisit the places that once felt like the center of our lives.

It was the first time I realized just how disconnected I feel from a place that once held so much for me. The place I had lived the longest in my entire life, and a place that used to feel like home.

When we closed Health House in 2020, something shifted. There was a deep sadness in walking away from something we had poured so much into. And then, a few years later, losing my father-in-law added another layer. Grief was woven into the landscape of a city already full of memories.

Time has a way of quietly reshaping things.