At the end of the day

Night has fallen in southeast Missouri. I’m leaving for Tennessee tomorrow, after lunch and a visit to my grandma in the nursing home. Soon, I’ll go to sleep in the room that was mine as a child, though the furniture is different and living in that room seems like a lifetime ago.

I’m sad to be leaving. Sad to not see my nephew’s smiles every day, to talk with my mom, and laugh at something completely silly, lame, and dad-joke-ish my dad says. I’ll miss my brother.

But I also miss Nashville. I’m a tiny bit homesick for my house and my street, for the noise of the city, and the voices of my friends. I love that city and count it a blessing I get to live there. I miss my church and even my work, even though that may be more the friendships I’ve built with the people I work with.

I love it here, and I’ll be sad to watch “home” fade away in the rearview mirror tomorrow, but I also love my life in Nashville. And I’m a tiny bit excited to be going back home.

Sometimes, you get lucky enough to have two “homes”: the one who made you who you are and the one your heart calls home.

I’ll see you tomorrow, Nashville. And I love you, Bernie, and I always will.