Back from hiatus (i.e. the Motherland)

I love and hate going to New York. Mostly, I love it. Love seeing my family. Love seeing my friends. Love being in the old neighborhood. Love being among "my people," so to speak. Especially love the food.

Hate sleeping on the couch. Yeah, that whole crashing on the couch thing lost its appeal when the college years drifted further and further away. Why am I sleeping on the couch? My Dad no longer lives in my childhood home. He downgraded a little more than a year ago to a smaller place, because he really couldn't and didn't need to maintain the house anymore. But that also meant that he now has just enough space to be comfortable. Add one - and well, that one is uncomfortable, i.e. the couch.

I can take it for a weekend. In fact, I really don't mind it for a weekend. A week is another story. That and the no privacy remind me that, although New York City is always where I say I am "from" and I call going "home" (small H), I really no longer have a "Home" (capital H) there anymore. "Home" (capital H) is here, where I live, in Maryland, with JS and Thor. And even though I moved out of my childhood home over 10 years ago (with a brief 9 month return my final year of college), it wasn't really until early last year, when that house was sold, that I felt that final tie severed - that the definition of "Home" became more definite instead of split.

So, I've noticed that I have been saying, "I'm going to visit my Dad," or "I'm going to New York," when previously I would say, "I'm going home to see my Dad," or some such thing like that. After a week on the couch, I was really very happy to be Home, in my own bed.

Addendum: In thinking about it, the sale of my childhood home also coincided with the end of my student career. Entering the "real world" at that same time, I'm sure, contributed to that change in the "Home" status in my mind.