The words for this post have been rolling around in my head for almost a month now, but I couldn’t quite get them to work their way through my fingers and onto the keyboard to create a coherent message. Well, timing is a funny thing because this weekend, while casually perusing facebook, I saw my thoughts captured completely in a friend’s status update.
“When your heart has several places it calls home, a part of you is always home and always homesick. But what a wonderful thing to never be without a place. Homes are where the heart is.”
Jessica is a writer – can you tell? We met at work in New Orleans, and we have both since moved to other cities that we now call home. Maybe it’s because it’s Mardi Gras (Happy Mardi Gras!), or maybe it’s the dead-of-winter winter blues, but I have been surprised by the fact that I am missing New Orleans lately. I want to be clear, though that this “missing New Orleans” is not accompanied by any regret at our decision to call Cincinnati home. I think that is why I have struggled to put into words what I have been feeling. How can you miss a place but not feel discontent with where you are now? Because you can be home and homesick. I consider myself fortunate to have experienced so many different homes in my young life. From Columbus to DC, New Orleans to Cincinnati, I am glad to have called each home and know that they shape my “place” now.