I was chatting with a few coworkers today about weekend plans.
I explained that since I was Eli to Seattle for baseball camp, I was going to take advantage of being up there and go shopping for a dress.
That spurred the questions of what I needed a dress for (Matt's retirement shindig), how long he served (will be 20 years, 10 months and some days) and when the event was taking place (end of March).
I handled all of that very well.
Then one of the ladies asked me if we would stay in this area when Matt retires.
To which I replied "well that all depends on where Matt gets a job".
Then came a question I don't think anyone has ever asked me before....
"So what feels like home?
I've had people ask where we wanted to live, where our favorite place was that we lived, and if we would go back to California, but nobody has ever phrased this question with the same emotion-packed word choice as my coworker did today.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I felt that ugly cry face coming on, and I barely squeaked out the words:
here
It wasn't until that moment that I fully realized how much this place is home to me. And suddenly the rush of all the things I love about Washington overwhelmed me and the thought of leaving broke me.
And I realized that this must be my home.
This is what it feels like when people who have lived in one place for a long time think about leaving their "home".
I get it now.
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