Home is where the heart is...
...or say they say.
I didn't quite believe 'them' when my parents moved to a strange new city a couple years ago. This foreign place was definitely not 'home' to me.
Home is Duncan, Oklahoma...
Where I spent the first 22 years of my life.
Where I met Mary when I was 2 years old.
Where I walked out of my backyard and I was at my elementary school.
Where I painted my room turquoise and plastered my walls with Hanson posters.
Where I played hundreds of games of tennis.
Where I had my first kiss.
Where I had my first job.
Where I learned how to drive.
Where I knew almost everyone in my graduating class.
Where I could get anywhere in the entire town in 10 minutes or less.
Where I knew all my teachers before I even had them in class.
Where Mary's house was one song-length away.
I used to hate Duncan. It was so lame and boring and small. I used to beg my parents to move. It was funny that when I finally did move away, I immediately started to appreciate and become nostalgic about my sweet little hometown. I loved visiting there.
I miss it.
I visited my parents for Easter a couple weeks ago. It was my third time to visit
Houston...
Where I love eating breakfast on the wonderful patio.
Where I could ride on the amazing bike trails everyday.
Where there's a neighborhood tennis court around the corner.
Where I cuddled with my cats for many hours.
Where I relaxed with my parents for many hours.
Where I looked through hilarious old photo albums.
Where we went to church for Easter.
Where I met up with an old friend from college.
Where there are endless bars/restaurants to try.
Where I got countless hugs.
Where I'm already wanting to visit again.
xoxo,
Annie.
I really do miss you, sweet girl. I like Houston much better with you in it. Thanks for writing about us.
ReplyDeleteYou have encapsulated basically all my thoughts and feelings about my parents' move away from my hometown as well!
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