Home

We moved to the suburbs of Atlanta a little over 8 years ago. I've never really called Atlanta home though. Home is in Mobile. Home is my mom's house, my Granny's yard, my old school, my best friend and of course, my family.

T was confused at first when we would head to Mobile and I would call it "home." I clarified and he understood. N would sometimes joke that home was actually the house we bought on the little street in the quiet neighborhood in the burbs. But home was in Mobile. 

We've had two tragedies in our family in just three short weeks and if there has been a silver lining, and this is a stretch, I've learned that home can be two places and both can make you feel happy. I get it now. I don't have to love one more than the other. 

Mobile will always be home and every time we make the drive, I can't wait to get there and I'm sad to leave. I'm equally happy to be heading back home though, to our Atlanta home, to my Atlanta bed. 

I have wonderful memories and sad memories in both places. I have friends and family we love so much and who also happen to love us and they live in both places. 

I think I'm lucky. That seems so odd to say during a time like this, but I am. I have two homes and that I can't wait to get to and people in both places that I just can't wait to see. You know what, I am lucky.