It is funny when you have two homes. When you have two places where you
live which are full up with the people who you love. There is no way to only
have one. There is no way to pick one over the other. There is no way to decide
which one to call home. They are both home. I can’t use the past tense for
Hawaii, like “I lived there” because I will be living there again in a few
months. When I talk about Hawaii to people I do call it my home. I say, “I can’t
wait to go home.” I say I live in Honolulu. A small boy asked my son in the
pizza place tonight, “where do you live?” and he said “Hawaii.” I said to him,
yes but where do you live now and he shrugged and couldn’t answer the question.
For him, I don’t think that he considers East Marion home. For him home is
Hawaii. Where his Dad is. His favorite books. The stuffed animals that were too
big to pack (Clifford, Frosty & Destroyer).
Or maybe I am more like my son that I’d care to admit. Maybe I can feel
homey in East Marion but with chunks of my actual life missing it can’t be
home. One of the reasons we did this was for my son to spend more time with my
Mom. For some reason I feel like that hasn’t happened enough. It could be
because we are here for so long. There is no sense of urgency. There is no
sense of packing it all in because there are only two weeks, seven days, we
leave tomorrow. I almost think that this is a bad way to do it because we are
really blasé about the time. And let me tell you that it is speeding by. Like the
speed of light speeding by. Like one of those books where you flip the pages
and the little drawings seem like they are moving. It was June and now it is
September. Just like that. Flip. Flip. Flip.
I can’t say that I am not sad. I LOVE the fact that it is starting to
feel like Fall. I am so looking forward to a blatant shift in seasons. Bring on
the changing colors, falling leaves, back to school, crazy winery traffic jams,
corn mazes, hay rides, pumpkin farms and apple picking. I breathe in the air
and it feels like my youth. I can’t say that I loved any particular season growing
up in New York but I loved it when they changed. The anticipation of moving
from one to the next. I loved waiting for the cues, the hints that the next
season was upon us, like earth’s plates shifting and moving one atop the other.
Once the season had settled in, I bored easily, looking forward to the first
robin sighted or first snowflake. On the lookout for the next one. Perhaps this
embracing of change is what has allowed me to live the way I have, in the
places that I have. To make the choices I have made. I am grateful for one home
and blessed to have two….for now. For now, I breathe in and while it smells
like Fall, more importantly, I can just catch a whiff of Hawaii. If I stand in
the right place and tilt my head just right. I can smell it. It is right there
so close. And it smells like home; the sweetest smell ever.