Friday morning found me driving down I-44, dreaming away the miles to the Oklahoma border. Swing music streamed to my radio from my iPhone, my cat snoozed in her carrier next to me, and I practiced counting to six in half beats as the road signs counted down to zero for me.
For the
first time in ten years, I went to the Lake for Memorial Day. Recognizing this, I spent part of the drive
thinking about what home is. For me, I
have three.
My
first home and my heart’s home is Oklahoma.
I grew up in the cities of Oklahoma, but was tempered by summers on the
lakes. When I first decided to return to
the Midwest, Oklahoma was my first choice for family.
My last
home was Alaska. I spent almost ten
years in the Last Frontier, enjoying the wildflowers of summer, and doing my
best to appreciate the winters (I’m not exactly the alpine skiing, snow machining,
ice-fishing type). The friendships I
formed there were strong, girlfriends who were there for me whether I needed
them or not, and guy friends who made me feel beautiful and appreciated, even
if it was just by throwing me around on a jiu-jitsu mat for a few minutes.
My
current home is St. Louis. I’ll admit
that as of today, St. Louis is still only my home because it is where I live,
but I’ve only been here two months. As
much of St. Louis as I have seen, I’m still finding my place- be it swing
dancing, martial arts, running, or just hanging out, I’m still figuring out
where I belong in this great big city.
As the
miles passed by on Friday traveling from one home to another, I thought about
these three homes. Soon, I’ll only have
two as my Alaska home fades to a fond heart’s memory rather than part of my
identity. I know my friends will be
there, but not for dinner and coffee and jiu-jitsu five nights a week.
Over
time, St. Louis will become my life’s home, as I make connections and
friends. It just takes time and
patience. I have more of one than the
other, but I’ll get by.
In the
end, Oklahoma will always be my childhood home and my heart’s home. While St. Louis is a six hour drive from the
Lake, it is an easy trip to make. For
the first time in years, I spent Memorial Day weekend with my family, picking
peaches and making pie, hanging out on the deck and visiting for hours, driving
around the Lake just for the joy ride, and wandering through flea markets looking for the good
deals we probably didn't need anyway. Life
is good- complete with fresh peaches and tart cherry pie.
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