You Can’t Go Home

Posted on June 30th, 2016

I’ve lived a whole bunch of places in the past six years. Between going to school in Nashville and Philadelphia and working in New York and Seattle, I’ve gotten to experience lots of different parts of the country. But no matter where my mailing address has been, one thing has remained the same: Saint Louis, Missouri is my home.

I was born in St. Louis. So was my dad. So were my grandparents. I fit all the stereotypes: I’m too friendly with strangers, I’m risk adverse, and I am biased enough to think the best of America is embodied by a summer night at Busch Stadium when the Cardinals are beating the Cubs. I knew my career (and my husband’s) would start out elsewhere, but I was always clear that we would ultimately end up in the middle of the country, surrounded by family, right where we belong.

Two years ago, that vision became much more hazy. It all happened so quickly (as these things always do), but suddenly, my dad had accepted the job of a lifetime in New York City, and the tectonic plates in my little world started to shift. My littlest brother was still in school, so my dad would commute from St. Louis to a pied a terre in the city every week while my mom stayed home until William left for college. Then they would take the plunge, sell our house, and become a full time New York family.

For two years I’ve had time to mentally prepare myself for what now becomes a reality. And I’m still pathetically unprepared and overwhelmed. The dust has settled, and as of this month, my parents have a swanky Tribecca apartment. As of this week, we no longer own a house in St. Louis. (My parents are allowed to lease our house from the new owners until the week after my wedding, though!!)

I love to make plans. I have a plan for this week, a financial plan, and a four-year professional plan. For two years, I’ve kept looking for the right plan to pop up and replace the long-term Midwestern dreams that had felt so certain.

The current update: ?????? I’ll try on a new plan like an off-the-rack dress, but so far, nothing fits quite right.

730 days was apparently not sufficient to process and re-calibrate. Today, I’m still a tiny bit sad and a tiny bit lost. But just because I do not know what the future holds does not keep it from coming, so I keep marching forward, too.

I’ll let you know where we’re going when we get there. In the meantime, my destination is in the journey.