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As a sentimentalist, I make frequent visits to the landmarks of my journey. Growing up I went to 12 schools in 13 years, to include kindergarten. I will drive slowly down the streets where I once walked over my childhood. I look at the yards of my friends, recalling the games that we played and the joy we shared. I stop and look intently at my former homes. A plethora of memories flood my mind. Included in the memories are the people who shared those moments, including family. Sadly, they are gone. Most have long since passed away.

I take the time to drive by the schools I once attended. Some of the buildings remain, others have been razed and replaced. Nonetheless I can recall the teachers, the cafeterias and the classroom subjects. I am jettisoned back to a time in my life where I was constantly transferred from school to school and I was unable to make long, lasting friendships. I am reminded of the perils of a broken home, being abused by a stepfather and trying to do the best I could under the circumstances. Yes, I remember them all as I slowly drove down the streets.

My rendezvous down memory lane would be remiss without visiting the places where parties were held, date night locations and the clubs. The flashbacks are vivid, replete with some of the most intricate details. I could get out of my car and walk into those historical moments as if it were happening in real time. Many people talk about time travel; I just went back 50 years with ease. Here I am reliving these times once more.

As yesterday’s memory fades and I awaken to the realities of the moment, I wonder whether this recurring visit to my youth’s stage is worth the time and emotional rollercoaster. I confess that I do this a couple times a year.

The phrase you can’t go home is a poignant expression that speaks to the irreversible nature of change.

Especially in personal, emotional and cultural transformation. You can’t go home suggests that once you’ve changed, or once time has passed, the place you remember as “home” no longer exists in the same way.

You can’t go home is often interpreted as loss of innocence or simplicity.

After growing up or experiencing life’s complexities the comfort and simplicity of childhood cannot be recaptured. Also, people you knew may have changed, moved on or passed away, making home feel unfamiliar.

Moreover, you have evolved and the person you were when you called that place home no longer exists.

So, returning doesn’t feel the same. Finally, revisiting your childhood school or neighborhood might look the same, but it feels different.

That bittersweet disconnect is the heart of the phrase, “You can’t go home.”

Let us embrace this reality. Nostalgia is powerful. Sentimentalism is gripping, but the past is not a place we can truly inhabit again.