On being “Home” this #WeekendCoffeeShare

If we were having coffee…

Hey, good to see you. **Hug** Thanks for meeting me so late. I’ll be at my in-laws in a few, but their coffee is from some big box warehouse store, so I always stop here at Wawa for a cup of Columbian or some mix of different blends before going home.

Home. That’s such a vague, interpretive and subjective word. I just left my former home state of Michigan because we sold our house of 11 years. Last night, I stopped overnight in my hometown of Pittsburgh to visit a family member who’s in a hospital near my childhood home. Now I just drove across my home state of Pennsylvania to visit my in-laws’ house overnight before I drive to temporary housing in New Jersey tomorrow while we look for a house.


In a sense, I’ve driven from home to home to home—or house to house—to stay at home while we look for a house to call home. Often, “where I’m heading” is what I call home.

Listen to me, getting all philosophical at 11:17 at night, and after a 6-hour drive at that. My college friend, Dawn, and I stayed up late last night chatting. We talked about her love life, my husband life, friends, ex-friends, exercise—no topic is off limits for us. That level of comfort and familiarity is a kind of home. We ate dinner at the Eat’n Park where my high school boyfriend took me for the midnight buffet when I lived at home.

It was good to see my uncle. He’s been struggling with his health. When I called him two weeks ago to meet me for lunch at another Eat’n Park he said, “Sure, we’ll get together if I’m still alive then.”

My Dad was like that.

Anyway, specialists are treating him, so he’s getting good care. I left after dinner tonight because he said, “Let’s eat together,” giving me half his hamburger.

As you can guess, my writing is non-existent these days, except for Monday’s Ann Arbor Emerging Writers Group. I was able to make one last meeting to say goodbye to everyone, and it was critique week. I printed some random bit from my memoir, I don’t even remember what now, because any critique is a good critique. My last writerly goodbye selfie to wrap up sweet pea’s Farewell Tour.

The week wrapped up with a few other friends, errands and last-minute donations. We sold our house. This was a good week. How was yours?

This entry was posted in Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Share your thoughts!