Home; Going and Coming

This past weekend was our one year anniversary and being the romantics that we are we didn't exchange gifts and instead celebrated by driving from South Bend to Boston. Perks being that we spent every moment and every meal of that day just the two of us. Pitfalls that I have to stop to pee/stretch every 2 hours making the trip impossibly long and the meals shared were McDonald's and Wendy's. Either way it's always good to spend quality time together even if the sole purpose is to curse out drivers who refuse to use cruise control (you know who you are). 

We had always planned a trip to the Midwest for the summer but when Tim's grandfather passed away nearly a month ago it created a longer vacation than expected. South Bend will always be home for me, it doesn't matter that I haven't lived there for five years and I might not ever again because I think that home is more than just where you pay water bills. Home is that sense of comfort that you get when driving the streets that will always be familiar. Home is the people and the places that no matter how they change and grow will always be sources of distinct memories. My parents are moving to Florida by the end of the month and this means that Tim and I will both no longer have our childhood homes to return to. Now normally I'm not a huge crier, I just don't, but pregnancy does weird things to a person and as we pulled out of that driveway Sunday morning at 6am I sobbed. I cried for this place that built me and for the memories shared here. I couldn't compose myself until we were well on the toll road. Even now as I write this I find myself unaware of what to do with the tears that build in my eyes. This home housed the memories of my sisters and I choreographing dances, finding out my mom was pregnant with twins, receiving college acceptance letters, more delicious dinners than one could count, crazy yard maintenance tactics, countless movie nights with friends in which I would inevitably fall asleep, getting ready for formal dances, dates, and eventually my wedding. In this house I grew into the woman I am today. In this house I fell in love with my husband. Now I know deep down that this is just a place and that these memories are really about the people and they aren't going anywhere but it's hard to rationalize with the tears of a pregnant woman.

This sense of home comes in stark contrast to coming "home" to Boston. It is our home now. It's the only place Tim and I have ever lived together. It is the home in which we will begin our family and I couldn't be more grateful for that. While being "home" in South Bend for 3.5 weeks, Boston felt a little like a distant memory. Sure we missed our friends and the comfort of our bed but really we were overcome with the nostalgia of being back in the midwest with the people we love uncontrollably. But after being away from our little apartment for almost a month, we forgot that this is really our home. I can cry for the memories of our past but one day I will have to leave Boston and this apartment and I know I will cry for the memories of this place too. I guess I was just surprised by the overwhelming comfort of getting off at exit 17 and the peace that flooded upon walking into our sweltering, but clean, apartment. Boston is where everything is familiar now and I am so grateful for that and for this chapter of our lives. I love our A/C-less apartment and our local grocery store. I love that we can walk to the ice cream shop or iced coffee joint. I love that we can go into the city, but we don't have to. I love that we have a driveway and a yard. I love that the pride of the New England natives shows on their hearts and their sleeves. I love how much there is to do within a day trip. I love the friends we've made here who are better than us that we deserve. 

We got to see Steve and Meredith for dinner on Monday and we talked a bit about these regions and home. It's a conversation that has stuck with me all week and I am just so thankful that this is our first home. This city will always have a piece of our hearts no matter where we eventually end up. And I hope that our daughter inherits the pride of being from New England. It's gotta be something in the water around here and I hope she catches it. I hope that no matter where life takes her, that she comes back here and feels at home. That she proudly tells everyone who will listen that she is from Boston, Massachusetts. 

On our drive from home to home Tim surprised me with a detour to Niagra Falls which increased the romanticism of the day 1000 fold. 

Have you ever been?

We had asked a kind stranger to take our picture and got even more as they passed on the elevator advice. We didn't have time to go on the Maid of the Mist voyage, as much as our Pam and Jim tribute wanted us to, and we also didn't have the funds. But you can go down the elevator and climb toward the falls as well as get admittance to the observation deck for only a $1. So we experiences Niagra Falls for two dollars all within our one hour free parking spot.

The view from below. This climb earned me the opportunity to sit for the next two hours in the car.

And a little view of the Canadian side too. See that baby girl? That's Canada.