One of the strange things about college is going home. Whether its heading north to Seattle or south to the ‘Couve, I am always, in some sense, “home”. But that sense is fading lately, as I increasingly think of myself as a Seattleite and less of a Vancouver, er, -ean.
People speak of putting down roots in a place. Fair enough. But people don’t really take root in places, they take root in other people, so when everyone leaves SPU, suddenly my roots span a continent. Perhaps that is where home is, with those people in those places, wherever they happen to be. I have a home in Vancouver. I have a home in Seattle. I have homes in Denver and Colorado Springs, in Philadelphia, Maryland, and in San Diego, in Canada, rural Oregon, and Portland. I haven’t even been to some of those places. But I’ve loved all the people who live there. Hmm. If I love enough people, perhaps I will always be going home.