When I was 17, I graduated from highschool and left home. I didn’t return except for short visits. Before graduation, I had moved 22 times, sometimes within the same town and other times across states. My roots were not deeply rooted in any place, but it took decades before I realized that where I am, I belong.
Sometimes we leave a place or a thing only to discover that it really had become home to us. It can be a job or a relationship. It can be a house or a community. The places that we find we belong are important. They shape us, connect us, and root us.
For 6 years, I wrote a column in my local paper. I shared bits of my life as well as lessons I learned along the way. At times, it was a struggle, cathartic, inspiring, and helpful. I didn’t realize that a simple column had become a sense of home for me until I could no longer write it. Nevertheless, I moved on and started this blog. Like moving into a new house in a new state, it felt strange and uncomfortable at first. While I enjoyed the opportunity to continue writing, I also continued to hear how many people missed the column in the newspaper.
Recently, I’ve been watching the BonJovi documentary: Thank you, and Good night. He is the one who wrote the song, “Who says you can’t go home?” The lyrics have been swirling around in my head, and I decided it was time to try to go back. I wanted to keep writing my blog but also offer the writing as a column for the newspaper. Graciously, Syndicate publishing welcomed me home with open arms.
So, I will continue to write, and I hope people will continue to read. You can now find my reflections in Syndicate newspapers as well as on this blog and social media. It’s good to be home.