Missing home... wherever that is!

I recently returned to Ohio (where I grew up). My husband's aunt made it possible for my son and I to fly there. And I'm so grateful she did that for us. It seemed fairly urgent to go visit my dad. My dad has been very sick recently, and I knew we had to be realistic: This may or may not be the last time we get to see him; but I'd sure hate to miss the opportunity to see him once more. So that was the reason for our visit.

But while we were there, I was struck with plenty of emotion. It had been 5 years since I had been back to the place I grew up. That's a long time considering I still have a lot of family there. It was incredibly surreal to be back in northern Ohio. I couldn't get over how strange it was to drive on the same roads I learned to drive on back when I was 15 years old. As I drove down Mentor Avenue, I couldn't help shedding a tear or two knowing that some of my best memories were made driving down it. My brother actually taught me to drive comfortably. It's confession time! My older brother had his drivers' license and I only had my temporary. We'd say we were going to run an errand. My brother would get in to drive and I'd sit on the passengers' side. When we got far enough away from home, we'd switch. He never made me tense, he never criticized my left turns, and he never told me where to go. (Why did your parents always tell you which way to turn on your way to school even though you'd been going there for years?) Late at night, my brother and I would go driving. We wouldn't go anywhere specific. We'd just turn up the music, roll down the windows, and drive down Mentor Avenue. I miss those days.

When I lived in Ohio, I was not old enough to do my own grocery shopping. But when I was back this last time, I graced a few grocery stores. I was blown away by the quality of produce, artisan breads, and meat. I almost fell over when I saw a package of meatloaf mix. I miss meatloaf mix! Why don't we have meatloaf mix in Texas? My fellow Texans, meatloaf mix is an equal amount of ground beef, pork, and veal in the same package! Now, I grew up in a Korean/Italian family. And every good Italian knows that good meatballs are made with beef, pork, and veal. It drives me crazy when I want to make meatballs and I can't find good-looking ground veal. So I buy a package of ground beef and a package of ground pork. It's not the same. I also saw Amish raised chicken. THAT my friends, is a thing of beauty: to see a package of chicken breast that are not of freakish size (Everything's bigger in Texas, right?), have no skin or fat on them, and are very reasonably priced even when they are not on sale. I found myself quite sad as I continued to walk through the meat cases: beautiful hot Italian sausage spirals were calling my name. It's been years since I've seen a spiral of sausage! And northern Ohio is filled with specialty butcher shops. I don't even know where the closest butcher shop is in Houston! I know I sound ridiculous. But what can I say? High quality meats, breads, and produce make me happy! Oh my goodness...The produce: I saw an assortment of produce that just is not available at our grocery stores in Texas. And the breads were equally impressive.

Northern Ohio is such a different culture than I'm living in now. I miss hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurants and pizzerias. My fellow Texans, did you know that in other parts of the country there are tiny little places where families create the most amazing Italian food you could ever dream to consume? I have yet to see a hole-in-the wall Italian restaurant that sells incredible food since I've lived in Houston. Most little places around here sell Mexican food: hardly the quality I grew up with. When you want comfort food, do you want a big bowl of pasta or a tamale?! If you ever ask me that question, I will ALWAYS tell you to bring on the pasta... and don't you dare over cook it! I got to visit my favorite little Italian place while I was back home. I went with my old friends Dave and Chelsea. We ate at Zappitelli's. Zappitelli's is where my brother got his first job. They serve some of the best Italian food I've ever had. And everyone in the area knows it. It's a tiny place, but they are always packed for dinner. It was surreal to be back there experiencing the place I ate at almost every week when I was growing up.

I also got to visit the place where I got my fist real job: "Yours Truly." "Yours Truly" is a family-owned restaurant that serves breakfast, salads, burgers, sandwiches, hand-dipped milkshakes, hand squeezed limeades, etc. That was the most amazing place to work. I'd probably still be a waitress there today if I still lived there. The quality of food was great, so was the service (of course!), and so were the people who owned and operated it. When I went back this time, I just wanted to jump behind the counter and start making milkshakes and limeades. It was at "Yours Truly" that I realized I had a gift for creating good food. On multiple occasions, I walked into my manager's office with an idea for a new sandwich or dessert and found it on the menu a few weeks later. I had regular customers who would come to eat late on Friday nights so I could serve them. I always closed the restaurant on Friday and Saturday nights so I could clean the place like I wanted it to be cleaned, serve my favorite people, and, of course, make extra money. I miss "Yours Truly."

Everything looks and feels different Ohio; especially in the Spring. There are so many trees, daffodils, and beautiful old homes. As I drove down my grandmother's street, I couldn't help but smile at the many daffodils around the front of all the houses and the tin awnings over every window. Every street name rung a bell. Every yard was trimmed and pretty. I even laughed when I saw the silly old lady's house: she still had her fake flowers planted in the dirt. She always has colorful, pretty flowers "growing." No watering, no trimming, just perfect neon flowers all year 'round! The memories flooded my mind continuously while I was in Ohio.

I've always said that I don't enjoy Texas. And I still don't. It's too hot, too humid, and too crowded. But I never expected the reaction I had when I got back to Texas. I was relieved. I was happy. I was excited to be back to the life I've created since I got married. All I wanted to do was be with my husband. I wanted to see my church friends. I wanted to come back to my pitiful little apartment. I've grown up a ton since I left Ohio 5 years ago. I'm a mother now, a wife, and an aspiring chef. I have no idea what state to call "home." Is "home" where I grew up? Is "home" where I live? Is it both? I'm learning that longing for where I used to live isn't healthy. Yes, I miss the weather. Yes, I miss the old grocery stores and the Italian food. Yes, I miss my family and old friends. But that stage in my life is over. God has placed me in Texas, and that's where I'm learning to be content. Texas is where I've learned the most about myself and about my marriage. It's where I've learned (and am still learning) to be the mother I am. Texas is home to the church I've always dreamed of being a part of.

Being in Ohio was an emotional experience for me. I experienced some good emotions, but also some bad. But the best emotion was when I got off the airplane and saw my precious husband waiting for me and our son. The best emotions flooded me when I got the hug I had been longing for the entire time I was in Ohio. The best feeling was laying in bed with my husband my first night home. Maybe home really is where your heart is.