When your hometown no longer feels like home.
I can't recall exactly when it hit me a few years ago, but I remember being asked when living in Maine, where we were from? I had replied Virginia. And then was asked if I missed home. To that, I had to pause. And not because it was a hard question or I was embarrassed about anything in particular. The word "home" seemed so distant to me. Like some foreign concept.
We had already moved so much in the 5 years since my husband and I left our hometown. He to go off to boot camp, and I to college in Florida.
Add a few more moves and years, and we are now at a decade since we have lived in our hometown.
There are moments I feel like a gypsy. Moving every few years. Even living out of suitcases, boxes, and hotels for weeks on end until we got the keys to our new "home". Even when we move into that new "home", we can't fully furnish the house completely, like something from our dreams or a magazine, Because what if the next place we are sent doesn't have the same space or layout. So we continue to live like minimalists. One couch for a family a five can work, right?
Recently, we were able to take a road trip back east to our hometown to visit our parents and family that are still over there. And that question had floated into my mind. Did I miss home?
Once we got into town, I tried to put myself into that mindset, that this is our town. This is where we grew up. We pointed out memorable spots to our son and talked about some good times. But ultimately, no. It was a fact, that this is where we are from, but there were no warm fuzzy feelings that would make us sad when it was time to leave back to our current "home".
Unfortunately, so much can change in a few years. Change can be a blessing. But it can also be a curse. It can erase the very essence of a town. It can alter the neighborhood to be unrecognizable from one's childhood. The quaint downtown area where you use to take a nice stroll after dinner is now bustling with a different beat of life.
While growth is beautiful and welcomed at times, it can truly be detrimental, too. How can one miss a place that is still there, but physically and socially different? How can one also miss a place they haven't lived at in so long?
Yes, the memories are there and will always be cherished. But the heart needs to move on and does with time.
There is a saying among Navy families. "Home is where the anchor drops." For us, that is so true. Home has truly become a state of mind. We stick together, and where ever the Navy sends us, that is our "home"
Hopefully, someday we will be able to drop the anchor for good and build permanent roots somewhere. But until then, as long as we can all be gypsies together, I don't mind wondering about the next new place we get to call "home".
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