Home is where the heart is…
There’s no place like home…
Make yourself at home…
Home away from home…
Home sweet home…
Mi casa es tu casa…
Home. What is home? Where is home? Is home the house or apartment you live in? Is it your neighborhood? Your city? Your state? Your country? Any place with the people you love?
I don’t have the answers. And there is no one answer for everyone — or anyone. And these days, most of us have lived in several, or many, different houses. And likely many different cities, possibly many states, and sometimes multiple countries.
I have lived in about 17 different apartments or houses in my lifetime. And about 14 cities in three different states. So where is home?
All of them. But then if home is someplace that feels like home, maybe not all of them.
I was born in Massachusetts and lived there for decades. Then I moved to California and lived there for 26 years. I have now been in Florida for over four years. I guess they are all home in different ways.
I don’t go back to Massachusetts very often. If I have family there at this point, I don’t keep in touch with them. I do have a couple of friends there, and many acquaintances from way back in school. (Thank you, social media!) Last November I went back for a few days, and I saw several friends and acquaintances. It felt familiar, and it felt like home even though I have no really close attachments with anyone there. I regularly communicate with one friend there outside of Facebook. But it felt like home. I wouldn’t want to live there because of the weather and the fact that neither of my children is there.
My daughter, son-in-law, and little granddaughter are here in Florida. So it is home. I like my home, as far as my villa, although I don’t like the neighborhood, I don’t like the town, I don’t like the surrounding towns, I don’t like the traffic, and I don’t feel as if I fit in. I don’t feel “at home” here, and if it weren’t for my very special people here, I wouldn’t be here.
Although my business has done well as far as book sales since I moved to Florida (largely due to Covid, I think), otherwise it has not been a good place for my writing/publishing. I belonged to a writing group in California where I made friends and regularly attended meetings. I still belong to my publishing group there, since all the meetings are now on Zoom, and I attend them all. In Florida, I have been sadly disappointed. The writing groups are mostly critique groups, and they don’t seem to have regular meetings with good speakers, so it doesn’t really interest me. My publishing group has a conference once a year and pretty much nothing else. I have been on the board for over two years, so I feel some camaraderie, but it is not the same as my California group. When I get off the board in a couple of months I will see no one unless I go to the conference.
Part of the issue is that the Florida publishing group covers the entire state. However, I don’t feel they serve the members without regular meetings that are well attended, and they have not managed that.
I know most of my comfort with California has to do with the fact that I started my writing there. I learned how to publish my books there. I felt very appreciated there. I got lots of newspaper press there, and a great connection with a local indie bookstore. I did lots of workshops and speaking engagements.
In Florida, I have done barely anything. I don’t feel as if I have any footing as a writer/publisher. I don’t feel as if anyone knows or cares about my expertise. And there is a dearth of bookstores. Part of it was that I moved here right before Covid, but I don’t think that is the major part. In California I had lots of connections. I don’t feel as if I have any here.
California feels like home. My son is there, so that is important. And my writing community is there. I have lots of friends and acquaintances there. I fit in there. I fit in politically there as well. (Massachusetts too). Not so Florida.
I feel like a visitor in Florida. And sometimes like an alien. But here I will likely stay because of family. And that is really the most important thing. I just wish I were geographically close to my son as well.
Home.
Arlene. It sounds as if you really miss your old writing group. You should do what I did and start one modelled on your old, California, group.
Good luck to you.
Thanks! Good idea….but then I would have to find speakers! I could start something though. Lots of writers around here. When things cam down, I will think about it.
Trouble finding speakers???
In my group, I have trouble stopping them!!!
I mean well-know people to come in and speak. Those are the meetings that I like and are helpful to me.
Thomas Wolfe wrote that you can’t go home again. I have had similar moving experiences as you. For me, Home is where your heart is – with family.
Agree. Above all, family.
Sounds like a mistake. How often do you see your daughter, son-in-law, grand daughter? Might be better to fly in and live here in CA where obviously you prefer. And what about your son? Does he not count? I have another friend who moved to FL – different reasons than you, but similar complaints and regrets. His are the politics and behavioral rules. I wouldn’t live in Florida if my entire family was there. Social setting and cultural opportunities are everything, and here in CA, they flourish, and I can visit anywhere on the globe in less than a day.
To me, family is more important than anything else, especially being a single person. I see my daughter and her family at least once a week. Florida has gotten expensive, but I absolutely cannot afford to live in California. To each their own. And yes, my son counts, but I cannot live near both of them. I cannot afford two homes. And my daughter has a daughter.
I nearly cried reading your description of how you feel living in Florida. That’s exactly how I feel about living in my small town in South Carolina. If it weren’t for my daughter, sister and brother-in-law being here, I’m not sure where I’d find home. I’ve called over ten states home, but I love Vermont, where I grew up and it feels very much like home in an almost childhood sort of way. But I don’t think I could deal with the cold any more at age 72. I loved my over 30 years in Texas (Austin and central Texas) but the politics and cost of living have made it unlivable for me. It’s a mental struggle to feel as home where I am now, but I’m working on it!
Sounds as if we are in exactly the same positions! Good luck to both of us!