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There are so many phrases about home that we all carry around in our heads. “Home is where the heart is.” “There’s no place like home.” And “You can’t go home again” That one has always bothered me. Why not!?!

I’ve moved a lot over my life and have always returned to those places I once lived – to visit relatives, old friends, and just to reminisce, I’ve enjoyed taking that walk down memory lane. Those flashbacks – and the stories they evoke – are a big part of who I am and who I came to be. If I read a book I love, sometimes I want to read it again.

Recently, I took a trip back to the place I’ve always thought of as my home town. I lived there in my formative teenage years and believe it shaped me. On this visit, I was there for a purpose but still made time to visit the old places that mattered to me. It was a little unsettling that those old favorites looked so different. Mostly, those changes were positive and made me happy to see.

I lived on the beach in those days but much of my activity was spent across the bay in the sleepy downtown. My high school was there, the old theater where we watched the 'Rocky Horror Picture Show' and important offices were there, but there was nothing else really happening there. Then Hurricane Michael came and did some serious redecorating. What a change! I was there to take part in a film festival and was stunned by this shiny new downtown that looked so unfamiliar! I walked the streets and took in all the “used to bes” and “remember whens” and it felt good!

On the beach side, I certainly knew how to find my favorite haunts but nothing looked right! Where did that skyscraper come from and why is it blocking my view? Why are all of these new roads here? Where did all of these fast food restaurants come from and where are the mom and pop joints? Obviously, I knew that the old Petticoat Junction is now a Walmart and that the Miracle Strip Tower has been gone for years but seeing the Miracle Strip Amusement Park as a vacant parking lot still rattles me. What happened to the Magic Mountain?

On the beach, Mother Nature washed away my beloved sugar sands that squeak under my feet. Sure, new white sand had been brought in, but it’s not the same. Thankfully, Funland and Goofy Golf are still there, When they’re gone, I may never be able to come back with the same joy in my heart.

When I returned to the place I live, I remember that I’ve lived here, in this place, longer than I lived any place else. THIS is my home town, I guess. And over the last week, I’ve spent a lot of time in *different* regular places, surrounded by friends I’ve known for more than half my life, who gave me so much love and brought so much joy to my heart.

I guess home really IS where the heart is. The address doesn’t matter. The memories do. My family, my friends, and my love make any place HOME.