As I watched my hometown disappear in my rearview mirror this weekend, I felt both happy to go home to my husband and sad to be leaving my family and town again. (I made a day trip to visit my people.) Even though I love where we live now and, in some ways, I like being away from everything familiar, I always feel as though I am leaving behind a piece of myself in the place where I grew up. It will always be my home.
I've concluded that when a person grows up in one place all her life -- 28 years in my case -- it becomes such a part of that person that, in ways, it defines who she becomes. That place is more than just a chapter in my life; it was my entire life from birth until a few months ago.
I always wanted to live somewhere else. To travel. To experience new places for more than just a few vacation days. Now that I am doing that, even though it's still within the state, I feel both happy and sad about it. Part of me still wants to move further away and live somewhere completely different for a while. Another part of me wants to run back home to everything familiar and be closer to my crazy family again. Even Hub says, "I know how you feel. I love your family more than you know and I want to be near them... and that place."
However, life is never perfect. We always want something we don't have. The grass is always greener... But, despite its imperfections, I truly love our new home and the new town and all the new experiences we have yet to live. This is a good place to have a family and still decently close to the most important people in our lives -- somewhere between his hometown and mine.
Not to mention, it's in my blood and his to be on the go constantly (we can hardly hold still) so making weekend trips is, I've decided, perfectly healthy for us. It's what we like to do. Even when we have a chance to stay home for the weekend, we rarely choose to do so. Having family less than two hours away gives us an excuse to hit the road without spending too much money on gas and hotels.
We have the best of both worlds, the way I see it.