Home

Going to college was a great casting out for me. I severed my biggest tie to the place I was raised. No longer was that the place I always went back to. I came back sometimes but more often went.

In college, I thought I was being clever and funny and wry when I declared that I was in search of a wife. I didn't understand the truth of that subtle declaration. I was in search of home.

I don't know how it is for most people, whether the relationships they choose arise from a shared vision of the future or whether they come out of an overlapping vision of each other. I think the latter vision is much easier to find and much easier to maintain. I'm fairly certain that mine, if it comes, will be the former. I know the modern context makes that vision difficult to achieve.

When I talk about home, I talk about actions, traditions. Home is making lefse in December. Home is riding in the car for 4 hours to get to the cabin. Home is pancakes. Home is wiffle ball in the backyard. Home is our table in our house. Home is riding my bike in Purgatory Park. Home is Thanksgiving at my aunt's. Home is the love my mother puts into her life.

I imagine wistfulness will be my fate in my new house. I will think, "this isn't home. Yet."