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“My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.”
― Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tide

Coming to terms with my homesickness is a work in progress. Life is a series of transitional phases; I know change is inevitable. I consider myself a restless spirit who likes to roam. I am well traveled,, but my “port of call” has always been  Carolina.

Going back home now is bittersweet.  I take part in the activities and festivities that I took for granted before family dinners,: fireworks in the local park, eating at my favorite restaurant, walks in uptown Charlotte, weekend trips to Charleston and the Smokies., enjoying local treats, hours of gut busting laughter with my  mom, making music with my dad., seeing friends, going to Comedy Zone, or hanging out at South Park Mall, listening to Bob and Sherri. I even miss our annoying pest of a neighbor.

Texas has been isolating in some ways. I feel out of my element, out of synch…out of  step.  Life is bittersweet but I refuse to dwell on the bitter, not when there’s so much sweet to be found. I have my wonderful family by my side and of course, Tucker-Rock Star Cat Extraordinaire. I have dear friends and family, who may be far away but are near in spirit.  Thank goodness, for Facebook and Skpe.  I have my nonprofit work that gives my life worth, a fun podcast,, that I host with my best gal pal, Jane..  Soon, I will have a Masters. I’m looking forward to traveling to San Francisco this year, New England, and of course, back home.  I’m trying to look at the move as a grand adventure. There’s much to see and do here.  Everything really is bigger in Texas, the people are friendly and the food is out of this world..  I also know that this isn’t my permanent home, that more changes are ahead. I welcome them with an open mind.

My wound will always be my geography, this yearning for home, that overtakes me at time, filling  me sadness and nostalgia. However, my healing balm is love and the assurance that the memories of the home of my yesteryear are here to stay.

I finally think I am at place in my life where I can finally be myself, but what a journey it has been to get to this destination. I still find myself at times falling back into old patterns of never quite feeling good enough, or like I just don’t measure up. However, for the most part, when I look in the mirror, I see a me that I can live with. This me is witty and loves to laugh. This me genuinely wants everyone to be happy and feel cared for. She wants to make her children proud and do her part to make a difference in the world. She wants to be the best person she can be. She wants to explore, soar and take in all life has to offer. She is still striving and still becoming . She can still be a spoiled, selfish, brat She is flawed and scarred,but there is humanity in her imperfections.  I know this woman, I like this woman, I feel comfortable with this woman, but I really have to wonder why she feels compelled to write in third person when talking about herself. : The eternal dork, but embracing all that makes me, Me!