In the midst of an unplanned and unexpected journey, I found myself traveling back to my hometown, St. Louis, Missouri. Born in the heart of the Midwest but having spent most of my adult life on the East Coast, this trip held a special place in my heart. It wasn’t just about seeing a familiar place—it was about embarking on a deeply personal healing journey. One particularly difficult day, as I battled the weight of depression and a sense of disconnection, I decided to visit a neighbor—an older woman who had become a maternal figure in my life. Little did I know that this visit would trigger a profound change. As we talked, I couldn’t ignore the uncanny resemblance between her and my own mother. It was as if I were looking at my mom’s mirror image, from her haircut to her Afrocentric nose. The experience stirred something deep within me and urged me to consider returning to St. Louis.
For nearly three years, I had vowed not to return—my past there tainted with tumultuous memories. But as I sat with my neighbor, her resemblance to my mother and the emotions welling up within me, I felt an unexpected calling. That evening, I prayed for guidance, seeking to discern whether these feelings were mere emotion or a divine message. The next morning, I awoke with an even stronger conviction. In the quiet stillness of the early morning, I knew I had to act. At 3 AM, I booked a direct flight to St. Louis without telling a soul—not even my family. With only a backpack filled with pajamas and undergarments, I embarked on a journey home, breaking an eight-year absence from my parents’ house.
Anxiety mixed with excitement filled the flight, but something inside had clearly shifted. Upon landing in St. Louis, I booked an Uber, and my driver, sensing the moment’s importance, encouraged me to record the surprise. With bated breath and hidden camera, I arrived at my parents’ doorstep. The shock and joy on my dad’s face as he opened the door, followed by my mother’s screams of delight upon realizing it was me, created a reunion overflowing with love and emotion. During my short three-day visit, I cherished every moment—simply being with my parents, laughing, talking, and basking in their warmth. On the final day, I reconnected with extended family, soaking up their wisdom, laughter, and love.
Of course, no trip home would be complete without indulging in my favorite local spots—pork fried rice from Eastside Chopsuey and the iconic mini burgers from White Castle. That impulsive trip to St. Louis turned out to be both necessary and transformative. God’s guidance had led me back to my roots, where I found the healing I needed to continue my sabbatical and personal journey. This visit, rooted in living in the moment and embracing love, laughter, and growth, has paved the way for a brighter future and a renewed connection with my family.
