I
consider myself one of those fortunate souls to be able to consider two different towns as my hometown. I
was born Maryville, Tennessee, beautifully and strategically located in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains.
However, with the exception of part of my first grade, part of my third grade years, and the summer after my freshman
year, my dream of calling Tennessee home has never materialized.
My adoptive hometown is Phoenix, Arizona. My dad’s
company transferred us there midway through fourth grade, in the spring of 1969. Having never lived any
further west than Abilene, Texas, this meant that we were the emotional equivalent of being on the other side of the planet.
In my so-called adult years, I’ve
lived in Phoenix, Dallas, Arkansas, and back to Dallas. Twenty-one of those years have been spent in the
Texas/Arkansas territories.
What’s
the point of telling you all of this? I forgot but it probably had something to do with being content with
where we are in life (conditionally or geographically). I know that, for me, I would love nothing more
to live either back in Tennessee or Arizona. I love both states dearly. The deal is,
as I said before, I live in the Dallas area.
I
suppose this is God’s way of meeting me in the middle. I dunno.
Don’t get me wrong. Dallas has been very
good to me. I’ve enjoyed a good career here and it seems to, for the most part, provide economic
stability for me and my family. And though we’ve lived here a total of over 20 years, it doesn’t feel like “home”.
I can’t tell you why, exactly, but it just doesn’t.
One might think that going back to either Tennessee or Arizona
would make me feel at home. But, here’s the deal: Due to the fact that I only
go to Tennessee about once a year to see my family, I really don’t know the area all that well. There
are familiar sites loaded with very pleasant memories, to be sure. However, I know very few people there
and I sure don’t know my way around very well.
Of
course, I have family there who always make me feel loved, wanted and welcome, always asking when I’m going to move
back there, but, so far, it’s never been meant to be.
Okay,
so let’s look at Arizona. I have been there off and on over the years since moving away and it’s
always a treat to be there and to see family and friends. I always make a point to look up at least one
old friend while I’m there in order to catch up on news and their lives.
I know the valley pretty well but it’s
changed a lot since I lived there. The old street grid and the one freeway has been surrounded and complicated by new freeways,
streets and communities that I don’t even know. I get lost at least once every time I’m there.
My
friends and family always make me feel welcome and always ask when I’m going to move back there but, so far, it’s
never been meant to be.
What to do, what to
do?
Well, there’s
an old saying that home is where the heart is. My heart is with my lovely first (and only) wife and, wherever
we are, that’s home. There’s another saying from an ancient book that encourages its readers
to be content in whatever state you are in. I know that when it said, “state”, it meant, “circumstances”
but somehow, in my case, “state” meaning a state just seems appropriate.
So, my heart is with my wife and home is where the heart is so, therefore, I am content
– make that “incredibly happy” – in this state of being, whichever state inthe union it finds us –
even if it’s “lost between two shores”.
