I was sitting in the backyard of my vacation house in the late evening. I had a boxer puppy in my lap chewing on a stick while I thought up the plot of a short story. Without thinking I would throw a toy and the puppy would run, grab it and bring it back to my lap to chew. It was pleasantly warm, a breeze coming off of the nearby saltwater pond, an early summer evening like any other.
And then the world changed.
I don’t know what happened. Everything was the same but it wasn’t. Things at once seemed crisp and clear and yet everything seemed to be viewed through a window of ancient glass.
I was living and yet remembering the time that I lived. Memory and life were one.
It wasn’t déjà vu. I hate that creepy feeling when you know everything that’s going to happen a second before it does. I’ve had déjà vu so bad at times I would look at a person, say in my head word for word what I knew they would say and then have them say it. I’ve even known everything that would happen minutes in advance. I was literally reliving a past experience. The creepy part would be when I could almost, but not quite, put my finger on when it had occurred before. It was right there. I knew the time and date.
No, this wasn’t déjà vu. It was something else. I didn’t know what was going to happen and I didn’t care.
The house I had lived in part time for almost exactly a year suddenly seemed more familiar than my “real” house of over 15 years or even my childhood home.
It was a weird feeling of suddenly belonging.
And yet it seemed like a memory. I felt nostalgic.
Was it because the moment was so much like times I had as a child that really haven’t occurred since? Possibly. I sat playing with the puppy and realized the moment was very similar to my childhood and so remote to my adulthood.
And yet it wasn’t really about childhood.
It seemed to be something more; and yet, somehow, something less.
After an infinite timeless period the clock started to tick once again.
The feeling faded. I couldn’t locate it. I remembered having it but I couldn’t remember the actual feeling.
Although the feeling may be gone, one thing remains. I had found a home. And the world has changed.