This past weekend I went home and what’s funny is as I was telling someone I was going “home” I realized that word actually means a couple of places for me.
Home is Jacksonville. Where I currently live with my husband and fur babies. Where my parents and in laws live. Where I bought my first home. Where I went to college. Where I began (and paused) my professional career. Where I met, dated, and then married my husband. Where I know so many amazing people I get to call friends.
Home is also South Florida. Where I grew up. Where I had some of my most amazing years. Where I spent the last days with my dad. Where I still have great friends.
Home is also Pensacola. Where I was born and spent the first few years of my life. Where I spent a majority of my thanksgivings. Where I have so many friends that are more like family.
Home is Alabama. Where my parents, sister, husband, and in laws lived and are from. Where my parents met (and my story began). Where my aunts, uncle, and cousins live. Where I spent more of my many thanksgivings. Where we visit (just not frequently enough).
So I guess what they say is true, Home is where the heart is. And for me, my heart has been left with a lot of people in a lot of places. These places are also where I hold so many memories, sweet and bittersweet.
I use to think you couldn’t cal mutlplie places “home”, but why? Why can’t I have numerous homes?