Monday, June 23, 2008
Last week, my family was on vacation in DC and Williamsburg, VA. Both are beautiful cities. I loved all the museums and monuments. And I especially loved going through the residential areas. I love seeing how other people live. Their homes, their gardens. Seriously, both cities are gorgeous.
But I was so glad to get home on Friday.
I missed my dogs. I missed my house. I missed my own coffee at breakfast, and leisurely reading the paper as I sip it. I missed my own bed.
I missed Erie.
As I walked the dogs Saturday morning, through the quiet neighborhoods, I couldn’t help reflecting about how much I love my house, my life...my city. Other cities are great to visit. Beautiful, hospitable, historic... They’re nice. But Erie’s home.
When we were in Williamsburg, we had a chance to talk to the hotel’s manager. He was born in Michigan, spent most of his childhood in Alaska, and now lives and works in Virginia. He was a history major who found his true home in Williamsburg, in the midst of all the history that area is steeped in. I was born here in Erie, and despite seeing more and more of the country and being able to admire those region’s assets, I’ve never felt the slightest inclination to live anywhere else. Erie is my home.
I recently wrote an essay for The Erie Times newspaper that will be out sometime in July talking about how much I love Erie. And as I worked on it, I realized that Erie’s been the setting for more than thirty of my books. I guess the fact I like Erie shows! LOL
What about you? Were you born in your true home, or did you have to go look for it? Or, are you still looking–trying on different cities, looking for the right fit? If you’ve found your true home, what is it that delights you about it?
PS. I’m leaving in a few minutes for Toronto on business, but I’ll be back this evening and will check the board! (That’s another great thing about Erie...I can be in Toronto, Buffalo, Cleveland or Pittsburgh in just a few hours.)