As my time to leave New York quickly approaches, I prepare for the tears and overwhelming emotions that I know are about to take control of my mind and flow silently into my heart. Each year I am blessed to have a family who supports me in most of my decisions, who encourages me to be successful, and who loves me unconditionally. There are truly some people I could never go without thanking enough for giving me a path to follow that is all mine. Being in New York with my family is an entirely different experience every year. I go different places, I see new things, and most of all I appreciate what I have around me more. I spend time with those I love, who I know love me just the same. I build a new foundation every summer. A new place to call home.
But at the end of every summer my “home” is broken down, as I am sent back dragging myself along to North Carolina. Although NC is where I have been raised since I was 7 months old, I can’t help but think that it’ll never be my home. The constant downpour of love and support comes from a very few bunch of people, but it’s those people that allow me to grow as a person without worry or struggle. It’s the time I spend here that shows me what makes a house into a home. Money doesn’t matter. If someone is struggling, you probably won’t ever know. Family is family, and they help when and if they can. The beautiful scenery and the fresh air remind me all too well of a place I’ve made up in my head called home. For a foundation like this I owe thanks to my mother. Had it not been for her moving me away from NY I wouldn’t have a foundation this solid in this beautiful state. Instead it would’ve been like everyone else here that see each other day in and day out. Eventually I would get in a routine and that routine would turn into a habit and that habit would eventually grow old. NC is a habit that has grown old. Somewhat of a disease I can’t get rid of.
Had I grown up in NY, I would see a whole different disease right at my finger tips…. the addiction of a warm heart. Never once have I experienced multiple people excited to see me and welcome me into their home… not worried and unquestioning about anything in my past. In any family there are ones who try to bring you down, but the ones that lift me up are irreplaceable and rarely found. If this wasn’t home to me and this wasn’t my Utopia, then I’d probably never visit at all. NY may not be London, Paris, Mexico, Brazil, or Italy, but it doesn’t have to be big and fancy to make me feel like this is where I belong. Leaving a select few in this family is one of the hardest, most heart breaking things I face each year. In the few days before I leave I wake up hoping time stood still throughout the night just to make my time last longer. The biggest problem with all of this is that this isn’t where I will end up. The even bigger problem is that this isn’t where I’ll have my children grow up and as cheesey as it may sound, I have followed the yellow brick road each year and it has never failed to lead me home. A piece of my heart is left behind but that piece is meant to stay. This is my home….. and sadly I let myself leave each year, telling myself I’ll be fine without it all…. but I never am. I wait all year for this….. and my heart is split in places my arms just cannot stretch.
So as I say goodbye to my life in NY, I remember that good things can’t all come at once….. and that one day, the place I am meant to be will drag me to it. And if the tears don’t flow when I leave, I know I haven’t left a piece of my heart, letting me know it isn’t home…. & that I need a new place to start. After all, there is no place like home.
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