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Returning Home

Hello everybody! I have answered my father’s request to write a few more blogs despite being 4.5 hours away at Dordt College. I consider it somewhat of a reprieve from the usual college workload that consists of economics, marketing research, and a seemingly endless amount of papers that need to be written. In any event, I think that cultivating thoughts and ideas for this blog is an easy task due to my love for the farm and my home. Oh look! I just found my topic for this issue, that’s convenient.


In a couple of days, I will make my third trip home of the semester. This may seem a bit excessive, but when you have a fall break, your brother’s senior musical, and a friend’s wedding to attend, the trips can pile up. Besides, it is a lot easier to go home when there isn’t an entire ocean in your way. (I spent last semester studying in the Netherlands.) Perhaps that is the reason I have looked forward to every trip home these past few months.


There are so many things to look forward to as you barrel down Interstate 29 and veer left onto Interstate 80. I know that as soon as I get past Pella, my driving will be more of habit than actual focus. I know that I am going to stop at Smokey Row, our local coffee shop, for my usual drink. I know that I will be greeted at the door by my beloved animals as well as a hug from my mother. And most importantly, I know that I will sleep well in my bed that night.


However, coming back to the farm carries more meaning than the physical things I can do while I am there. Cruising around in an old work truck feels like a ride of nostalgia through past summers of hard work. Conversations with my father or grandparents show me how much I’ve grown and how much I’ve stayed the same. Shooting clay pigeons and talking about school with my brothers takes me back to times that seem far gone these days. And there is nothing better than listening to Gary Dolphin and Ed Podolak on Saturdays as the Iowa Hawkeyes play (especially when they’re beating Ohio State 55-24).


As I prepare to graduate this coming May, my idea of home has become somewhat clouded. Dordt has grown into the role of my current home, I hold most of my life there. Despite that, my first home will always be the most important. I can sense it when I return to it. I may not reside there very often, but a lot of it resides in me – the lessons I learned from working on the farm, the memories made at the grandparent’s house, the slight smile I get whenever I think of that white house sitting at the end of our half-mile road. These are the things that I know I will carry with me wherever my next leads. (Speaking of that next step, if anyone knows of any good job opportunities, let me know!) Anyways, I guess what I am trying to say is that returning home is something special, no matter how many times I get to do it. 

- Cory 

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