Home

The word "home" can mean so many things. Some people use it to refer to where they were born or where they grew up. Some define it as the place they spent the most time. Others say it's where one currently lives. For me, I use the word to describe any place where I've lived where I have a lingering connection long after I've moved away or the place where my kitty sleeps.

My favorite spot

Home #1 is my hometown. I was born here. I grew up here. Of all my (almost) thirty-three years on this planet, this is the place I have lived the most years.

While most of my friends have moved away and started careers and families elsewhere, a few remain. The purpose of the late-July trip to this quiet corner of Michigan's Upper Peninsula was for my best friend's wedding. Jo and I met in fifth grade. She was there when I had my first sip of alcohol, when I got my first speeding ticket, and was standing beside me as I married my husband. I'm so happy I got to share in her big day too.

At night, I tucked myself into bed in the same room I spent nights writing in my diaries, playing with My Little Ponies, studying for finals, and even recovering from chemotherapy.  During the day, I retraced the steps I took as a child, following a faint ATV path through the woods to the town's best trail network. Each day, my morning runs were steeped in nostalgia, remembering both the good and bad of this place I still call home.

Super secret connector trail. May have gotten lost once, oops.

I spent my mornings eating breakfast on the patio in my pajamas, swatting mosquitoes in the afternoons, and sifting through bins of old possessions in the evenings.

What remains of my childhood possessions.

While the modest square of land I grew up exploring looked basically the same, I realized that time doesn't stand still while one is away. One of the five pine trees blocking the house from the road is missing. The front porch is new.

Breakfast views

More often than not, I'm content to stay put, but on this trip, my mom and I decided to explore a place neither of us had before visited: Tahquamenon Falls. Round trip, it's about eight hours away so we made a road trip out of it. We ate too much ice cream, stopped for pasties, checked out the lighthouse in Escanaba and gathered around with all the other visitors as we watched rust orange water drop over the falls. The ground beneath us shook as the falls dumped over 50,000 gallons per second.

Sand Point Lighthouse

Upper Falls

Mom is afraid of heights but took this on like a champ!

Near the end of my trip, I headed south once again. It's cheaper to fly in and out of the airport in my sister's town, so I spent some time with her before I went home too.

Before she got up in the morning, I sneaked out to run at another solo run in one of those special places I also call home. The campus arboretum where I became a distance runner feels like home too. Not much has changed here. The pavement sections still buckle from the tree roots. The golf course portion is still overrun with mosquitoes. The trail portion by the bay is still muddy. The only difference I noticed was that the hill doesn't seem as large. Funny how that happens. :)

Cofrin Arboretum

Shorewood Golf Course

Later that morning, Emily and I hit Bay Beach. We loved this place as kids. For just ten cents per ride, we walked in with crisp $5 bills and were able to ride all day. These days, rides cost about a dollar apiece, so we stopped at about $10 spent instead. Apparently, thirty year old bodies aren't as resilient on the Tilt-A-Whirl and bumper cars as they used to be.

Merry Go Round is just about our speed now.

Then I boarded a flight to another home, the one where Zoey and Matt were waiting. As we pulled into the driveway later the next afternoon, I felt that same familiar connection I'd been enjoying all week. Home is such a fluid concept and I'm happy that we're allowed to have more than one.

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How do you define the word "home"? Can you have more than one? If so, is it where you currently live or somewhere else?