Southern Magnolia Bloom
If you’ve been around long enough to get to know me a teensy bit, you probably know how homesick I am. I dream about home, think about it a good deal of the day, and my memories are all so fond.
When I left NC, I wanted to go. I wanted a new beginning and a fresh slate. From what? I don’t really know. I think I needed to explore my world a little bit, and moving to Colorado filled that for me. I was twenty-four. I had no worries. I thought I could always come back home if I didn’t love it.
Understand that I do love Colorado. I love the fresh air, the way people stay to themselves, the way people seem closer to the Earth. There are animals everywhere. I had deer running down my paved street the other day because, probably, they remember that this was an open space not very long ago. A subdivision took that field over. Then a town. Soon a city. It is quiet here. There are no sirens at night. You can see sky for as far as your eyes will allow you.
It’s highly probable that you will never encounter a thief in your stay in Littletown, CO, if you ever visited. The worst crime done here is that it is a ski town and the lower class just can’t make it. The real estate market is not nearly as high as LA or other places in CA, but they are painful and most people can never afford a mortgage here.
Beautiful angel statue in a Charelston cemetary.
But I do think about home all the time. I’m sorry that my grandparents/parent are growing older and I can’t be there to finally build a bond with them that I wasn’t interested in 8 years ago when I left. And the thought of it being too late bothers me. Jeremy doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understad why I didn’t care until the last couple of years. And in some ways, I think that change in me burdens him. Mostly because he wants me to be happy and feels guilty for keeping me in a place that I don’t feel the same connection to.
I know I’ll never go back. I can’t. The other day Jeremy said, completely out of the blue, “I think I wouldn’t mind living in Wilmington.” I know he said that for me though, and not for him. No part of me is capable of intentional selfishness and I consider moving back to be just that. Our family is happy here. I know Jeremy never loved the South. Colorado is his home. I would NEVER wish for him to miss here like I miss there.
Charleston Carriage Horse. One of my favorite childhood memories is getting to watch one of the momma carriage horses giving birth to her baby. So magical!
I fill my world with little things that fill that space for me. I order boiled peanuts and country ham online. I fill Mason jars up with lots of ice and the sweetest ice tea I can brew. I use the words I lost, like “y’all” and “yonder,” as often as possible because I smile at myself when those words fall from my lips. I think of my family. I imagine what it would be like to have my children growing up with my cousin’s children. I drop e-mails to all of my old friends once in awhile because I won’t be able to run into them in the store or while pumping gas.
And that’s all alright because sometimes we make sacrifices and sometimes we have to make the best of things. Really, I have so much to be grateful for. How many people in this world can say they are homesick? A heck of a lot. And that’s my worst ailment; dang I’m lucky! So many of us miss that place “over yonder”. But home is where we settle roots. Home is where the loves of our life are.
I recently covered my room in pictures of the South, things that remind me of home, places that are special to me. I used Etsy to find photographers who had captured the essence of the things I’m trying to hold onto. It’s the little things that comfort…
Sullivan’s Island Lighthouse (left) and Gullah Basket Weavers
Those two above are my favorites. The lighthouse is a block from where I lived on the beach as a youngster, and the basket weaver reminds me of my gullah nanny growing up. My mom took me to the market place in Charleston all the time, and I loved watching the weavers; they were beautiful.
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