A Home of Sorts.....

Today I drove down the tree-lined two lane road named Prospect. A few of the farms have for sale signs in front of them but most of the farmers in the area seem to be holding on. The air was warm and the sky full of sun and the occasional cloud but mostly there was endless blue. I ventured through the overgrowth of Washtenaw County and onto the highway and headed for home. Well, the closest thing to a home I have at this point. See, my home was a three storey bungalow on the west side of Detroit. It was located on a Ewald Circle, a street at the end of the infamous Schoolcraft Road. The houses on Ewald Circle looked like a stretch of architecture from England. I was born in that house and lived there until I was 19. Then Detroit become so dangerous that my parents' had to move to Southfield, asuburb right outside of Detroit. They tried to rent our old house but found nothing but tenants who did not pay rent and tore up the house. Finally, after the house was completely wrecked by a tenant on government assistance, they let the house go. I didn't know until recently. In a way, the fact that we still owned the house on Ewald Circle kept me feeling nostalgic about Detroit and Michigan in general. Now, the fact that I can't even stop by there and visit my old home just drives an unsolvable wedge between me and any sense of home I felt for Detroit or Michigan. Now I travel 45 minutes from the place I live to where my parents' reside and none of it, not my apartment or my parents' house, truly feels like home.

I love to drive. During the drive the wind blew through the trees and songs close to my heart played on the radio. I traveled to the my parents' house where all members of my immediate family met to celebrate and enjoy a relaxing day. This is my home of sorts. I lived in this house for some time before moving to Ypsilanti but it has been about nine years since I called this house home. It's not lost on me that this may be the last holiday that I can drive just 45 minutes to see my family. I don't take that lightly. So after a wonderful day I did the unexpected and surprised everyone by spending the night. I haven't done that in about five years. The need to go home usually drives me back to my quiet, empty apartment. Tonight, after having a beer with a friend, I realized that really, there was nothing to go home to. There was no reason to rush home to a silent night followed by another day of aloneness. I have no problem being alone but I'm alone so much that one night of sleeping and waking up with others could do me some good. There are some parts of me that are hardened, prone to isolation and solitude but those parts a few. There are other parts that long for connections, comfort and care. I can do without the softness of life but why do without it? It is just now, in my 34th years that I've realized that I do need the softness of life. That I do want to share happiness with others and where better to share happiness than with the people who love you the most?

So this is my home of sorts but really, I've never found a settling down place here. Drifting around fringe areas of Michigan has not helped me find a place where I belonged. As I sit here in the family room of my parents' house, stuffed full of food and drink, I think this is good, no, this is great, but there has got to be a place out there just for me. A home with a family of my own. A place where I truly belong and no one else can take my place. There has to be a place like that and it is nowhere near here. It is sad to leave but really, it is not a choice. It is more of a reality. With that thought, I lay my head down on the couch in my parents' family room with the thought that I will miss this. The smells of home cooking my mother slaved over for hours. The sound of my sister snoring like a bull frog in the chair next to me. my nephew's calm, inquisitive voice asking questions that many adults would never stumble upon. It is not lost on me that all of this can not be found anywhere but here and the tinge of loss will fill my mind every time I think of this place, this home of sorts. But I know that the journey must be taken now. There is no time to plan. This is urgent and I need to go. My home of sorts will always be here when the wandering begins to wear on me.