dixie land

arriving home from colorado in the dark of 3am I was greeted with mist and fog so dreamy I nearly cried tears of joy. home!

I lived in Colorado for seven years and never fully acclimated to the intensely dry air. so, stepping out of the airport after 26 hours of travel in two days (with another three hour drive home ahead of me) I was overwhelmed with a sense of belonging.

the earth is soft here. moist. welcoming.

I let my body sleep and greeted two boys for brunch before saying goodbye again. my suitcase was unpacked and packed again, for I was leaving at 4am to drive fifteen hours down south. the whirlwind continues.

when I was in the sixth grade my family moved from northern NJ to southern VA. for six months I hardly understood a word anyone said. (true story.)

when people used to ask me where I was from, I used to answer “virginia” because it was home for awhile. it was where I grew into my teenage self and adopted the term y’all.

so much has changed since then (the y’all still sticks) and many states have since become home. I grew into adulthood in Colorado. I grew into motherhood in Texas. I continue to grow into middle age (gasp!) with my love in New England as we approach the start of my fourth year here.

home can be many things.

“if we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored. one’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.” – henry miller

Virginia was home for a time, but dementia has left it empty and alone. that was my realization with this trip. I wish it weren’t true, but not all stories end happily. I kissed my mom, I held her hand, I watched her sleep and I sang her songs.

(those stories are for another time)

I made peace with the fact that what was once called home is home no longer. it is always and forever changing. it is something that comes and goes in my life, but always always remains in my heart.