on the plane ride from pz back to washington i got asked this question by the woman sitting next to me. i had asked her where she was from and after replying she looked at me and said,
“and where do you call home?”
i was startled. for the first time in my life, i was not quite sure how to answer. i sat there in an awkward silence, a few seconds too long and finally stammered out “oh, um, i grew up in washington.”
if you had asked me this question even a few months ago, i would not have hesitated in my answer. i have always considered the pacific northwest my home and still do. but this year, perhaps most especially this past semester, i found another home as well. one that I now desperately miss. i miss the sun and heat, the people, my room, my foam mattress topper, learning something new nearly everyday and, of course, the house. ah, the house. the food, the smells, the creaking doors and worn leather. and as i think of these things, these things i now consider home, i cannot escape this creeping and immense feeling of guilt. i feel guilty that i don’t want to be here, that my heart now lies, at least some what, else where.
i’ve been wrestling with this guilt. and i am coming to terms with the fact that i can call both places home, i can consider the people at pitzer, family, and the house, our house. but this, like most things, is a process. but i do know concretely as of now, that i can love the pnw and the rain and clouds and evergreens and still miss my california home with all my heart. and i should not feel bad about this, because its a place for love and i have room in my heart for both.
so, my dear pitzer, know that i love you and i cannot wait to go home in september.