About Me

My photo
I’m from New York but my driver’s license lists that my address is Ohio. My passport has a number of stamps in it. I’m the youngest of six, yet oldest son. I have a number after my initials, but not my name. I like music. I like coffee, beer and bourbon. I am a follower of Jesus. I watch bonus features on DVD’s. For four months each year my wife and I are the same age. “I pledge allegiance to a country without borders, without politicians.” I am an ordained pastor, but don't currently have a church. I’ve eaten raw horse meat. I’m fifteen inches taller than my wife, but I look up to her. I still prefer buying CDs to downloading music. I’m a night owl, who doesn’t mind getting up early. I like to play games. I moved to another country nine days after my wedding. I sometimes quote random lyrics. I believe in miracles. I prefer desktops to laptops. I like listening to audio books. I watch Buffalo Bills and Sabres games. I have five sons. I'm living life mid sentence.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Goodbye, Goodbye Home

Eight years ago last month I packed many of my belongings into my parents van and my parents drove me to Ohio, and I returned to college. After a two and a half year break from college I started back. Little did I know that January morning in 2001 that I was moving out of New York, not to return--except for short vacations.

Durring past trips back to my old stomping grounds I was hit with a sort of sentimentality, missing the place of my childhood. On a few occasions I even started looking for jobs in the Western New York area, and hoped deep down that I could return to the place that held so many memories for me. However as time moved on, the draw to return to Buffalo seemed to fade away.

Since ariving in Buffalo yesterday I have been struck that this is the first time that I've come to Buffalo as an outsider. No longer is this my home, but rather, for the first time, I am coming here as a visitor. While there are still things I love about this area, this area is no longer my home. And I'm ok with that. While my parents and two of my siblings still live in Western New York, I now realize that this area is not my home, but rather my home is where my family is. A city or state doesn't make a home. Nor do old hangouts. I've come to realize that I am more at home in the arms of my wife, and in the presence of my son, than I will ever be at any destination.