The Brass Key

Jim MacLeary has been trying to cope with the loss of his childhood home; the place of his beginning. More than fifty years after he'd said goodbye and left the place of his birth, Jim went back home for the first time. Going back home is a personal pilgrimage made by those who've had a childhood home they left behind, by their own free will, or due to adverse circumstances. The continuous thoughts of "Back Home," has prompted many to repeatedly return to the home of their childhood. Upon arriving, they face the sad reality of not being able to make a reattachment to the home they'd once cherished as their first place of belonging. The place to which they rightfully belong, and which holds lasting sentiments, is no longer welcoming. The joys and pleasures their childhood home had once brought, linger in their minds as unfading memories. Upon arriving back home after his long absence, Jim realized that life in his home village has changed drastically. He had a yearning to see, touch and feel the things that had once contributed to the exuberance of his childhood. He wanted to say hello, and be welcomed by his family, friends and the many acquaintances he'd left behind. Many scenes from Jim's childhood, and the livelihood he'd once enjoyed, remain indelibly in his mind. While there remains a constant yearning to make a reattachment to the place of his childhood, Jim holds only lasting memories that continually play hide-and-seek with his imagination. Like others who have repeatedly returned home, and have left, Jim realized that he can never return to his childhood home with a feeling of belonging. Jim has been clutching the key to the door of his childhood home. But he sadly realized that he can never use that key to go back home to the place that was once conducive to his childhood existence. From his foreign place of attachment, he'll continue to reminisce on the joyous pleasures he once had at the place to which he can't go back with a feeling of belonging. Jim sadly realized that his childhood home exists only as a memory. The Brass Key is a gentle meditation on home and belonging.