A while back, I wrote about how I don't have a home. Of course, my usual reference to "home" means my apartment, but today when I say, "I want to go home," I mean my parents house. I guess I want the spirit of home rather than a particular building. I haven't been home in over a month, and even then, it was a quick trip, with lots of other people and scheduled events. I don't even remember the last time I went to Nacogdoches for a nice relaxing weekend. I want to go just to be there. My parents have moved since the last time I was home, so I won't be going to the same house, but there's something comforting about going where my parents live. The house they're in is a temporary location, while they're building their new home, but all the right things are there: the right furniture, the right dishes, the right books, the right dog (and of course, the right parents). Those are the things that make it home.
I've been craving home for a while now. I've had something going on every weekend since the last time I was there. I finally get to go this weekend...kind of. Since my parents stay as busy (if not busier) than I do, they're not always at home when I get a chance to go to Nacogdoches. This weekend, I'm going to drive to Nac. on Friday after work, then I'll be taking a quick trip with my parents to San Antonio, where we'll spend Saturday night and Sunday morning, before I head back to Monroe. It will be an awful lot of driving for such a short period of time, but I'm sure it will be worth the driving just to be home for a bit.
You’re right, you know... home is where the heart is... and it sounds like your heart is so much like mine...
My family is my heart... odd as that sounds... there’s so many of them... and it takes each and every one to make one complete heart... no matter where I go... Kentucky... Mississippi... Louisiana... North Carolina... Texas... Arkansas... if one of my family lives there... it is home... and I AM HOME... the minute I cross an invisible line about 50 miles away from the actual house... I am as comfortable in any of their homes as if I lived there always... as welcomed as if I were an essential element of their day-to-day living... and the drive is always worth it... an eight-hour drive to spend one night is a treasure in itself... anticipation all the way there... and reminiscing over the new memories all the way back... (whoahhh... watch out for that 18-wheeler...)... family... home... awesome...
Posted by: Aunt Vickie at September 2, 2003 01:12 PMI'm glad you know where home is. It's still hard to let go, but I'm looking forward to this weekend. I will be happy to do your shoulders if you will do mine!
Posted by: mmb at September 2, 2003 02:22 PMDo you ever envy those who have never moved? They wouldn't have the longings you describe. I know some people who are living on land that has been in the family for generations. They have a sense of identity and place that roots them. It's very attractive--if they're getting along well with their family.
As I was walking my dog down our country highway one day and met a rancher as he closed the gate to his pasture. I was a newcomer to the area. The rancher asked me where I was from. I hesitated then listed Indiana, Mexico, Illinois, Kentucky, and most recently Florida. He shook his head and said, "If you don't know where you're from, you don't know who you are." Whoa!
Good old Texas. Philadelphia sure isn't very similar to Texas...
Posted by: Ben D. at September 2, 2003 09:34 PMAre you going to the church plant down in San Antonio? I have intentions of making it down there to visit sometime...
Posted by: Kristen at September 3, 2003 07:51 AMY'all should come this weekend! I'd love to meet you. My dad will be preaching.
Posted by: Christin at September 3, 2003 07:56 AMCandice and I want our kids to think it's normal to live in the same town as your entire family. That is the home we'd like to have, and why we are so bent on Kenner/Covington.
Posted by: SonofThunder at September 3, 2003 08:22 AM