I woke up at 3:00 this morning to drive down to Boston to catch a plane to Florida, to see my mom. I was gathering my things and writing a note to my kids and fiance, that I signed- “Be home soon” which reminded me of something I read this past weekend. The line in the novel went something like- home will always be where I grew up.
My life has been transplanted a few times. I was born on Long Island, NY where I lived until I was in 7th grade. In 8th grade, we moved to Safety Harbor, FL so my formative years were divided between these two very different locations. Home isn’t really where I grew up. I don’t feel that attachment to Long Island nor the home we built in Safety Harbor (which was sold years ago after my parents divorced.)
To me, home isn’t where I grew up- home is where my mom is. She is still in Safety Harbor, FL living in a different home than I grew up in, with her wonderful partner, Jean, 4 crazy cats and 2 dogs. I have never lived here with them- I left Florida about 15 years ago for Maine. Regardless of the fact that I have never lived there, it feels like home. Home isn’t a place, but a feeling. I hope that someday my kids feel that wherever I am is also their home.