Home is Where…

IMG_9382No matter how long I live in DC, every time we drive to Massachusetts, I’m going home.

Home, where I can relax my speech patterns and drop my Rs and not be unconsciously conscious of over-pronouncing every word I say so people don’t constantly comment on my accent.

Home, where I can order a “medium regulah” at a Dunkin Donuts and that’s all I have to say to get the coffee just the way I want.

Home, where the smell of salt water and low tide flashes me back to pretty much my entire childhood.

Where I bring a sweatshirt to the beach, or anywhere really, if I’ll be out after dark, because even in August it gets chilly at night.

Where my sisters and my parents and just about every last one of my childhood friends still live within thirty minutes of one another.

Where I know all the back roads and the main roads, and how to get everywhere I want to go without ever checking Google.  Where the city is mine because I spent childhood and adulthood strolling the streets and picnicking in the parks.

When we head back south, even if I’m happy to be heading to my own house and my own routine and a life that Matt and I have built that I really do love, I am physically sad to be leaving.  I can feel the good-bye in my bones.

It’s worst in the summer though.

It’s this time of year when I know the available real estate on the South Shore of Massachusetts like the back of my hand.  When I spend hours perusing the listings and imagining my life if I lived up there still.  When I see all the Facebook photos of my friends and family on the beach and at the lake and having cookouts that I can’t go to and I feel homesickness settle in my stomach like a stone.

I know it’s hard for Matt when I get like this because he feels like I’m unhappy here.  I’m not.  I love my house and my neighborhood is better than any I’ve ever lived in anywhere.  The schools are great and my children have wonderful friends and we live in an amazing community full of people I genuinely love and enjoy.  Thinking about leaving any of what we’ve created here makes me sad.  I love it here, too.

I just miss home.

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5 thoughts on “Home is Where…

  1. Melissa Joyce

    We miss you too! Can’t wait for you to come home next month. The kids keep asking when you are getting here! And Mickey told me yesterday that he wishes you lived next door. 🙂

    Reply
    1. Little Nesting Doll

      Thanks, we can’t wait either. And my kids would love to live next door…Matt’s job seems to be the major barrier. And we do kind of need that. 🙂

      Reply

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