home is where you hang your hat…

I moved back to the DC area in 2003 after being away since I went to college. Post college I lived in Atlanta, where I was happy but just a little out of control. I started working for the company I’m still working for now, which is the only constant. I learned a great deal about life and how not to live it. I ran up long distance bills making calls to my mother who was still in the DC area. I had little to no desire to move back to everything I’d known, everything I thought I knew. 

Circumstances brought me back here, back to my family, to live at home for a few months, to get my life back on track. To develop a wonderful relationship with my mother, my father. To discover that there was more to NoVA than I realized. To meet the man I will spend the rest of my life with. To fulfill my dream of owning a dog and a house and a car. Inside the front door of my house is a coat rack with many, many (really entirely too many) baseball caps hanging. Must be home, right? 

In many ways I still consider the house I grew up in home. I haven’t lived there since my 6 month stay in 2003, but it’s still home. It’s the street where I know every dip, bump, crack, turn. . .the driveway I can back up as if on autopilot. . .the garage door I know the code to open. The sweeping steps down the front yard. The red door. The basement door that locks from the main floor. 

I remember when we moved from Connecticut to Virginia in 1986, a month or so shy of my 10th birthday. It was kind of traumatic for me as all I could remember of my life at that point had been in Connecticut. All of my friends, my school, my very young life. Everything is so much larger when you’re a child. Experiences become magnified. But I remember the move. I remember the first night we spent in that house, my sister and I were sleeping in cardboard boxes, the clothes hanging kind, in sleeping bags in my bedroom. Listening to Whitney Houston’s album on my Magnavox boom box. I remember countless birthdays, christmasses and easters, my graduation, my sister’s graduation…my wedding rehearsal dinner…This is the home that myself as well as my parents have lived in for most of my life. 

Yesterday they received an offer on the house. It had been on the market for about a month and a half.

I suppose it’s all going to hit me now. This won’t be my home anymore. I won’t be able to walk in the door, sit down at the kitchen table and chat with my mom. Someone else’s memories will be made there. It will be interesting to see how I really react to all of this as the date grows closer to my parents actually moving. I’ve lived away from them, but they’ve never really lived away from me…they’ve always been here, in NoVA. Guess this is all part of growing up, moving on. . .just not sure if I’m entirely prepared for the emotions this is going to bring to the surface.



3 thoughts on “home is where you hang your hat…

  1. This is such a great entry, and if you replace Atlanta with Boston, that sounds much like my life as well. I also came home due to family, but just last year, and it’s weird. I spent so much time running from here only to realize this is exactly where I want to be. Life is so strange.

  2. sniff. Beautiful entry Beth…

    This is the point I was at back in February during my last trip home…dealing with the fact that I would never step foot in 11234 anymore…I took a moment to just sit in my bedroom in silence and soak it all up one more time…

    Now I’m ready to see what the next chapter holds for our family. Where mom and dad land in Tennessee…how they decorate their home…

    We both had opposite experiences, returning back to NoVA at different times in our lives…even though it’s no longer where I “hang my hat” it will always be where I came from…

  3. What Liz Said – Life is so strange. It blows my mind that you have to go away to figure out that home is exactly where you started.

    rebecca – it will be interesting experiencing it all from here. how it all goes down and how it all really makes me feel.

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