Home

The humidity covers you like a blanket the moment you step out of the sliding glass doors at Hartsfield International. This airport sends a rush of excitement through your body. The "Fly Delta" sign you saw as your plane touched down on the runway caused a smile to form from ear to ear and you can't believe you're back in the South. You wait outside of the baggage claim and wait for her familiar black CRV to appear among the organized chaos. Just as you remember that she bought a new car during the 5 months you were gone, you spot her in a shiny new Ford. The new car is not the only addition to her life, and when your sister emerges to help you with your bag, you smile and blink back tears at the sight of her 6 month belly bump - yes, she's ACTUALLY pregnant with your future niece. You ride through the early evening with your favorite person in the world, chit chatting about the flight (uneventful), if you already ate dinner (yes), and what you think of her pregnant belly (not as big as you expected). The downtown Atlanta sights are familiar - Turner Field, the golden domed Capital building, The Varsity Drive In - yet, in that moment you feel as if you're seeing them for the first time. As you drive up to the house your sister shares with your (sort of) new brother in law, you feel content, relaxed, happy.
You feel home.

A few days later and you're driving up the South Carolina coast with your cousin, windows down, music blaring, singing at the top of your lungs. The two of you chew bubble gum, drink Starbucks, smoke a cig (or two), and laugh till it hurts, all for old-times sake. As you cross the causeway onto Pawleys Island, driving past cattails in the marsh and breathing in the salty air, you remember how good this place makes you feel. You drive up to "Sand Castle," a yellow-ish beach house perched on stilts overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The "Sand Castle" will be your residence for the next week, and little do you know that it will, in fact, become a castle full of sand brought in by your 24 family members also staying inside. That first dinner time is of epic proportions - heaps of spaghetti with sauce and meatballs made by your grandfather - "Pop." He used the venison sausage his best friend "Porkchop" brought him on his last visit to Charleston. The air rings with screaming and yelling and laughter at an almost intolerable decibel - a noise so loud you are sure it can only achieved by your family, who gets together just twice a year. You smile, enjoying every moment that you are with them. Then you pipe right in, attempting to yell louder than all of them so they'll hear what you have to say.
You feel home.

You turn the key, walk in, and breathe deeply. No matter how long you've been gone, it always smells the same. You walk up the stairs, drop your bags as you've done several times at other places in the last 10 days, but this time tears fill your eyes as you spy the familiar, fluffy bed in the corner and the bulletin board that has the same pictures it did the day you graduated high school. You look at the pictures in the frames lining your bookcase - it seems like they were taken in a different lifetime. But they weren't, and the emotion from the past 5 years suddenly comes flooding back, but you don't mind, because sometimes pain feels good. You lay on the bed and sink into it, literally becoming one. You don't get up for a while. You walk your dog, Emily, who is almost as old as you are. It is nighttime - the air is thick and the stars are bright. The crickets sing their songs and the neighbors wave hello from their front porches. You smile and, of course, enthusiastically wave back. You appreciate the simplicity of a nighttime walk through the neighborhood. You get back to the house and call your mom who is admirably spending 4 weeks down in Florida getting a Master's degree. This house isn't the same without her puttering around in the next room, but you are proud of her. You look at the clock and realize that dad will be home from rehearsal soon. He will, no doubt, be excited to chat over a midnight snack. You close your eyes for a minute and curl into the couch pillow. You miss this.
You are home.