I am a “dyed-in-the-wool” Yankee who was transplanted from Massachusetts to North Carolina. I have just spent a week back in Massachusetts with my mother and some time with my siblings. And yet this is not my home. My mother lives in an apartment complex near my sister and has been out of the house of my childhood for over a year. This is definitely not my home.
Before heading back to North Carolina, I spent the weekend with Robert. He has been my friend since we were 15 and even though I have lived 800 miles away for the past twelve years, we have remained close. We enjoy cooking and eating and drinking and spending time together. 
We had the excuse of his sister Carole's birthday to kick the party up a notch. Otherwise we may have spent the entire weekend in our pajamas. We have always been lounge lizards. It was great to be in his company, yet this is not my home.
At the end of today’s air flights I will land in North Carolina. I am not from the South. It does not feel remotely like anything I have known growing up. However, when I get off the plane and see these faces,
I will, at long last, be home.
We had the excuse of his sister Carole's birthday to kick the party up a notch. Otherwise we may have spent the entire weekend in our pajamas. We have always been lounge lizards. It was great to be in his company, yet this is not my home.
I will, at long last, be home.
2 comments:
i too have the same feeling of home. Joe will now and again as we pull in to where we call home he'll say "Egelston" and we look at each other and smile. Home is where your love lives.
Keep posting.
Love,
RiRi
I like visiting New England, but I don't think I could live there again. I always said growin' up, "I'm gonna get the hell outta here!" and then I traveled 3,000 miles away to live with a bunch of other people who looked around their small towns and said, "I'm gonna get the hell outta here!" Love you and miss you. You taught me everything I know about lounging like a lizard.
Post a Comment