I thought it might be appropriate, the first day after my one-year anniversary, to replay my very first post. I went back to see how many people had actually read it, and the number was a whopping seven. Since then it’s been read only fourteen times more, so I think it’s safe to say, most of you have never read it. It tells you why my blog title is so right for me. Here is the link for Coming East–Coming Home.
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Coming East 
Our stories are very similar, as you know, even down to growing up in Connecticut (East Haven) and moving away. I still feel like an East Coaster but it doesn’t feel like home any more. Partly, that’s because my children are here on the West Coast and maybe because East Haven wasn’t Fairfield. I’m probably going to do some thinking …. and writing … on other reasons why.
In the spirit of retrospection, I’ve nominated you for the Seven Links Challenge. Stop by at Seven Links Challenge and see if you’d like to participate.
If our children had stayed in Texas, that’s where we’d still be. I miss the San Antonio-Austin area very much, and I think it will always feel like a very special place because we raised our kids there.
Thanks for the nomination! I’ll check out the site.
How delightful to read one of your beginning posts! I sympathize with your daughter; it was incredibly hard for me to watch my parents’ house sell after they passed away. Seems like you and I are kindred spirits. After roaming around for a few years, we too decided to move back east — actually to our home state and my home town. I wrote a four-part series about “home” last year. If you’re interested in reading them, start here with Part 1: http://mamasemptynest.wordpress.com/2010/10/10/home-sweet-home-part-i/
We tried to get back to Connecticut, but in this economy, there just wasn’t any opportunity. Virginia is as close as we could get, but it’s been a good fit, especially because I still get my ocean. Yes, I’m looking forward to reading those posts of yours. Thanks, Mama.
What a wonderful first post – Home! Since I’ve been married we’ve lived in 4 countries and moved 17 times. When it was time for us to pick a place to come home to, it wasn’t so much a town as it was a country because we had lived overseas for 5 1/2 years!
That must have been a wonderful feeling, Margie. I think, in many ways, I was fortunate that we lived in the same town all my growing up years, but living in different countries and states can give you a deeper perspective of life.
Another beautiful post. I am glad to know how it all began!
Thanks, Winsomebella. It’s always nice to be reminded of beginnings.
My first home in my heart is where it contains many old dreams and endless joys, where I can feel being a youth all over again, and where I can park my sentiments when I need to. Thank you for the beautiful post.
Since you mentioned San Antonio, I thought you might like to see some wildflower pictures in the Hill Country. http://shareandconnect.wordpress.com/category/wild-flowers/
Loved the wildflowers, Amy. We used to drive up to Austin the “back way,” instead of taking the highway. We’d go through Blanco and Dripping Springs, and the wildflowers in the spring were spectacular. The hill country is a gorgeous place.
My husband and I have relocated six times and lived in eight different houses. I long for the feeling of home, but there really isn’t a place that feels that way to me. Even the town I grew up in doesn’t give me that feeling since my parents retired and moved away. I’m hoping to stay where we are now, and perhaps I’ll eventually feel like this is home.
It must be hard to move around so much and not feel like you have roots anywhere. Hope San Diego (is that still where you are?) will begin to feel like home. It’s a lovely place.
The Old Post Road! I haven’t thought about that old road in years. In Milford, it’s called the Boston Post Road, but it’s the same route. Amazing how many memories can flood the brain from a single reminder like that. Thank you for linking to this post. It’s wonderful to see how you got started – and to get a memory jolt to boot!
See how small our country is? Someone on the West Coast knows about the Old Post Road, Route 1. Some wonderful little New England towns can be seen from it.
This made me smile. I have moved around a lot and though I don’t have a nostalgia for any particular home, I have discovered that when I have dreams (actual nocturnal sleep imagery) about something related to “home,” it is always of a particular house in which my family lived. It was the one farthest from our relatives, but the one in which I lived the longest, and during what were arguably my most formative years. It’s funny how the mind sets itself on what is home, and how different that can sometimes be from the heart’s opinion. When my parents moved to Florida for my father’s job, I found myself changing the old “Home is where the heart is” adage, for my mother’s sake, to “Home is only as far as your heart.” Your post reminds me of that, particularly that lovely last line. I hope you feel you’re “home!”
Read Lenore Diane’s comment; she dreams about home, too. Maybe I do, too, sometimes, but I rarely remember my dreams. Wish I did; I’d probably get some good writing ideas!
I’m glad you decided to link to your first post. Your post was beautiful. I still drive by our old house, whenever I get the chance. Though in the scheme of things, I’ve spent the fewest years of my life in that house – it will forever be my home. In fact, that home is often the location of my dreams at night.
Touching post. Thank you for sharing it with us – again. And congrats on your year of blogging!
I know—the older I get, the greater percentage of my life has been spent away from Fairfield, yet it always feels like home. Wow! Anchoring your dreams to your early home is really cool!