We are home in Atlanta, and I want to share a little about the trip, because I feel a little different than I did before I left.
See, part of the trip was a voyage to a bunch of little towns we are (possibly) considering a move to.
And the towns were nice. They were wonderful.
But I just kept coming back to the fact that after 6 years in Chattanooga, and nearly 5 years (can it be) in Atlanta, I feel like I belong in the southeast. And driving home yesterday, down 81, through the Blue Ridge, I was so happy.Â The right amount of sky above, and feeling everything get warmer…
Seeing all the little farms and hearing the voices in the gas stations felt like coming home.
This is a perpetual struggle for me.Â I feel connected to Baltimore, to the south, and to Iowa.Â There are bits of me that attach to New York.Â But I never feel strapped, or rooted, or fully placed.Â Wherever I am feels a little inadequate.
And so there I am.
No resolution to this post. We did not decide NOT to move. We did not decide to stay.Â We did not get struck by lightning that answered all our questions.
I just know that I love the south.Â I love small southern cities.Â That’s what I know.
I think there’s a little ragged piece of Chattanooga in me, that I’ll never shake free.