Going Home

What does it mean to go home?

When I was in my early 20s and a graduate student, "home" was my 600 square-foot apartment that I shared with my cat. It was filled with second-hand stuff - sofa, table, dinette set, entertainment cabinet - some new stuff - my dishes, the refurbished TV/VCR combo - and some stuff I'd had before - the sheets from home (though I later replaced those), my stereo system and the pillows and towels that'd graced my dorm rooms for four years. This mishmash of old and new was mine. It was the place where I studied, wrote papers, where my cat would sit on the table and try to snitch vegetables off my plate in the evenings and where I addressed wedding invitations. It was also my sanctuary, my place to unwind, decompress and often, fall asleep while watching TV.

Then there was "home-home." Home-home was that place where the laundry was free and the food was cooked by someone else. Yep, home-home was my parents' home. I'd come home from college with a basket of laundry. I'd drop it by the washing machine before getting ready for a date, telling Mom that I'd knock it out first thing the next morning after I got up. By the time I'd get up, Mom would have the second load of laundry in the washing machine while the first load spun in the dryer. "It was in my way" was her excuse. More like, she was just being Mom.

Now, home and home-home is our home. It's what we pay a mortgage on. We paint it, maintain it and decorate it to our heart's content. It's where we cook meals, wash mountains of laundry and where we welcome our firstborn's friends who play and giggle as they tromp up and down the stairs. It's a place of happiness, laughter and general life zaniness.

I rediscovered another home today, at Campbell University, my alma mater. Each year, the Divinity School holds its Thanksgiving Communion service and covered dish lunch the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. This time was particularly special, because I got to show off my baby Hannah to them, and I got to see the new chapel - Baker Chapel. It is beautiful! I told Peter that if the chapel had been there when we got married, we'd have been married there. Dr. Andy Wakefield delivered an awesome message on the importance of remaining thankful even during our broken times. Hannah was perfect, very well behaved. She fussed for a feeding during the sermon, but that's OK, because that's normal baby behavior.

It's almost all interstate from home to Campbell, making the commute an easy one. As I got off exit 79 off I-95 in Benson, tears clogged my throat. I laughed at myself for being such a sentimental fool, but the bottom line was, I felt like I was heading home. Driving through downtown Benson (a small town for you non-North Carolina people, home of Benson Mule Days) with its Christmas decorations up brought back so many wonderful memories of driving through it coming back from the beach or with Peter at my side as we returned from Thanksgiving at Emerald Isle or coming back from the Flotilla. I also remembered him and me as a happily engaged couple walking through the shops and shopping for family.

I drove the 15 miles from the interstate to the University and WOW! I hadn't been back in a few years, and things had changed. Irma was the first person I encountered, and she welcomed me with a wide, joyful smile. Then the former associate dean's wife hugged me. Then the dean. Then later most of the rest of my professors and the faculty of the school. I was welcomed home, and my baby was welcomed, too. There were, of course, a lot of people I didn't know, but it was just like seeing all those fourth cousins twice removed on your dad's side (and their families) who you don't really know at the family reunion. It doesn't make them less family.

I went up to the Psych department to see if Dr. Gary Taylor, my undergrad psych advisor, was available, but he was at lunch (and probably his lunchtime jog). Then I went down to the counseling department to find my professors from my first graduate program. I once more joyfully got to see Dr. Enzor, Dr. Hatcher and Dr. Kendrick. Dr. Enzor was my toughest professor and she went all soft over Hannah. Dr. Kendrick went completely gaga over her, too. It was awesome!

As it came time to leave so I could pick my other daughter up from school, I went out to the quad and simply took a deep breath and savored all that is Campbell. I came home-home, driving home and feeling weary yet recharged. It was wonderful being at this home-away-from-home again, and a place that practically was home for the better part of 12 years.