No, we aren’t moving. I have been thinking this morning. I was writing an introduction and realized as I was being flippant about what I wrote, that WOW…we’ve moved a lot.
But what really got me thinking is that I can say, “I am originally from Mississippi. I grew up in a small town and my parents still live in that same small town.”
My children can’t say that. They will not be able to say that they are originally from anywhere and that their parents still live there. They can tell people they have lived in Mississippi, Georgia, and Arkansas…but that is it. They don’t have a “hometown” to call home. Where everyone in that town knew them as babies, children, young adults, etc. Is that fair to them?
I know that we will move again in the next 4 or 5 years. Is that fair to my oldest who will be in high school by that point? Or to my middle son who will be in middle school? What about the baby girlie who will be in elementary school and making friends?
I want my children to have roots. To have a place that they can call home. To have an area that they know like the back of their hands. Ken and I both had that…I can still go home, so can Ken.
Yes, yes, I know…home can be whereever you and your children are. I know…but home, to me, is so much more than that. Home is where you live. Where you play. Where you know everyone…where your childhood friends are. I can remember everyone I went to school with….several grades ahead of me and a few grades behind me. Sage barely remembers his friends from school in Georgia. Peyton vaguely remembers the friends he made in preschool. Those memories are kept alive because I have kept them alive through pictures and my own memories.
Is that fair? That is the one thing that is going through my mind today.