When It Feels Like Home, It Is

I took the kids to Kingston Springs yesterday. We have not been back in almost a year. They wanted to see “our house” one more time before we leave Tennessee. We wound up the bluff around the familiar curves to Cross Country Drive. It’s amazing how your brain can take the time you have been gone and shrink it to what feels like mere seconds. After a slow drive by and flashing memories we reluctantly pulled away. For all the turmoil we had in that house I am relieved that pretty much just happy memories prevail. On the way back to the highway I was a bit surprised to notice that I could go on auto pilot if I so wished. I remembered the feel of the road and could anticipate the next curve or dip. I accelerated and braked without consciously thinking to do so. It took me off guard that the feeling of familiarity brought such comfort. That house was home for us, here in Tennessee. The apartment we lived in for seven months utill we bought the house, and this rental house we have been in just shy of a year have never really felt like “home.”


Whenever we travel back to Kansas there is always such anticipation. It is home; it is family; it is familiar; it is safe. At Christmas time I always notice that slipping back in like we never left is always possible. The time we have been away vanishes just like on that drive to house number 1005. I treasure family and history. That is a large reason we have chosen to move back. I have one life and one chance to give family and history to my children the way I had it as a child.

As I think of my friends that I must leave now, my stomach sinks and I get an empty feeling in my chest. My friends allow me to be myself and have stepped in to be my family in ways I never realized friends could do before living here. It has been a rocky five years in the Volunteer State, and without friends the memories of the pain would have no bright spots. I am sad to have to leave the familiarity of my friends; my new family. I know I can stay in touch. What I mourn is slipping into auto pilot around a group of people I love. Knowing and anticipating what can make someone laugh, cheer them up, help them see something differently, and give them encouragement means a lot to me. I also mourn being able to look someone in the eye that I respect as they love, encourage, teach, and comfort me. I never thought Tennessee would feel like home the way it has. My dear sweet friends, thank you for giving me that.

So I am leaving family and home to go back to family and home. I am lucky and sad; happy and grieving; anticipating and regretting; hopeful and contemplative.

This post is for you, my Tennessee family. I’m a Midwest girl who never thought she could be happy away from family. Before I moved here I never knew you had to specify the caloric content of your tea. I had no idea streets could be schizophrenic, changing their names in an intersection. I learned to adapt to not being able to see for miles unless you were at the top of the bluff. I now allow people who don’t know me to call me “sweetie”, “honey”, and “darlin’” without cringing. I will actually miss it. The best part about coming here was being forced to rely on people who didn’t share the blood that runs in my veins. That has been the most amazing lesson and blessing I have ever had. You all rock, and I am eternally in your debt for giving me a second home. Love you guys.