Home is where your heart is

Home is where your heart is. I was born in Detroit, but now I live in Seattle, and even with all of the myriad problems that we have here – bad traffic, crime, homeless people not having a place to call home, and the unfriendly (to Conservatives) political atmosphere – I still love this city, and call it home.

Twenty years ago, I had to move away from here, and that was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I had a very difficult time holding back the tears, as I drove ever further east. I spent a year in the Pontiac area in Michigan, living with my grandmother for a while, and then in my own place. It was one of the worst years of my life, as I missed the beauty of the Pacific Northwest – the mountains, the water (Puget Sound, and the ocean), the abundant green of the forests, and the temperate climate.

When my grandmother unexpectedly passed away, I received a sum of money as an inheritance, which allowed me to return to my beloved home, Seattle. When I left Michigan, my emotions were kind of mixed. On the one hand, I had lost my grandmother, whom I loved very much – as a child, I was sent back to Michigan almost every summer, to spend time with my grandparents, and they held a special place in my heart, and still do – while on the other hand, my heart was filled with joy at the prospect of going home.

I remember the impatience I felt, as I drove west from Michigan, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. I didn’t realize it until after I crossed the Idaho – Washington border, but I was also very tense. As soon as I crossed into Washington, however, it dawned on me that I had been very tense when I felt myself relax. Even though I have never lived in Eastern Washington, as soon as I crossed the state line, I knew I was home.

As I continued west on I-90, I grew happier, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before I was back where my heart was, where I belonged. When I crested the mountain pass, and began the long downward journey to the lowlands, my heart was filled with joy, and I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

At last, my journey ended as I entered the city. I was home. Back in Seattle, where I have pretty much been ever since. I have lived in other areas around Puget Sound, but always referred to living in Seattle when in conversation with folks from out of town, even though I didn’t actually live in Seattle.

I do live in Seattle, now, and have been here since 1993. I dearly love this city, even with all of its’ myriad problems, and cannot envision myself living anywhere else. Is Seattle a perfect place? Certainly not, but this is where my heart is, and this is my home.