“Who says you can’t go home?” asks the lyrics of a song written by New Jersey natives, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora. Two weeks ago, I made a trek to my home state of New Jersey for a quick visit with some friends and to attend a class reunion. I’d looked forward to returning after nearly a 3 years absence, but the post trip period has brought a bit of a let down. I guess that’s to be expected. It’s a double-edged memory sword. Returning to places that once held such prominence in your life. With such a brief visit, I found myself in a whirlwind of activity to keep on schedule that it’s only now I’m processing.
New Jersey isn’t a large state in area, but it is in population. I couldn’t get over how bustling and “overgrown” it’s become. I spent the first three decades or so in the Northern section of the state, even living in New York City for a time, and then after meeting Rich and marrying, we established lives in Ocean County an hour and a half south.
In my youth, the Jersey Shore was someplace that nearly tripled in population in the summer, and was almost a ghost town during the long winter months. With the tragedy of 9-11, there was a great influx of people wanting to flee major cities and the NJ Shore region expanded. Then came Hurricane Sandy that literally and figuratively swept many away. Then with the Covid epidemic, many families came back to live with relatives, again away from the big cities where they could work remotely. We were there for it all.
When I get a little homesick, however, it’s usually for my home city of Hackensack. Amazingly, the block on which I grew up looks nearly the same so many decades earlier. With so much building going on, it is a neighborhood frozen in time for now.
“Who needs a house out in Hackensack?” inquires the lyrics of a popular Billie Joel song.
Apparently many! Unless he was writing about our sister city, Hackensack, MN?
In the late 1970s, my mom had purchased a rental property adjacent to our family home and there, my brother John and his wife raised their family as my late sister, Manette, had raised her son, Zac in the early years. That home that holds so many memories of family gatherings as well was sold to its happy tenants last year.
I also stopped by to get a look at my sister’s gracious home on Summit Avenue. It has been completely renovated by its new owners, but despite its new look, I know within its walls, memories of the laughter and tears of so many gatherings that celebrated birthdays, as well as gatherings to honor those who’ve passed, still resound.
And then there is the condo located near downtown Hackensack where all my siblings and myself resided at one time. In the mid-80s, I lived in the ground floor unit my sister owned. It’s where she raised her son and I’d spent some time living with them. Later, I moved up two floors to a unit I owned after my tenant left. It’s where I turned the bedroom into my art studio, the place Rich picked me up for our first date. This week, that unit was listed for sale, the last in a long line of properties that still tied me to my home town and coincidentally, my sister’s former unit is also on the market.
I wish I’d had more time to visit. There were so many people and places I wanted to see. When I snapped these photos, I was racing to keep on schedule. Maybe that was a good thing because it kept me emotionally on keel. It was only later when I allowed myself to sink into those memories.
While there was a short time I considered return north after Rich passed, I realized while all those homes and buildings still stood, the people that shared them with me are no longer. It would be a daily reminder of what was and is no longer. In some ways while “touring” my old haunts I felt like a ghost just passing through.
But once a Jersey Girl, always a Jersey Girl, and I look forward to more frequent and lengthier visits in the future. Until then, I continue to appreciate the rural and quiet beauty of “Old Florida” with my loving pack. I know I’m very fortunate to have the opportunity to fall softly here.
