Utah. It's an interesting place. It's familiar, but not home. Since my parents moved here I have spent more time here than in Arizona.
Arizona. The land of my people. Home in my heart but, not in reality. This is were I spend the least of my time each year since I went away to school in New York.
New York. My home as far as time is concerned. I like it there, and grower fonder of it all the time, but it still doesn't hold the same weight with me as Arizona.
It's weird, because I knew as soon as I left, that I would probably never move back to Arizona until perhaps retirement. Arizona always has been and always will be my home, even if I don't live there. I brag about it all the time, I relate back to it in conversations, "Well, in Arizona, this is how we do it..." and I mourn when it mourns (such as now after the senseless tragedy in Tucson.)
All the time I spend in New York and Utah (aka away from Arizona) has led me to evaluate why I am so attached to Arizona. To me the answer is simple... it's the people I met there and the memories we share. I don't necessarily love Arizona because it's Arizona, I love Arizona because it is my connection to so many of the people that I love most.
This became more apparent to me this week. Three of my best friends from Arizona came up to Utah to visit me. It was the first time in nearly six months that I had seen any of them and the ease with which we picked up our relationship, as if I saw them every day, has made Utah feel a bit like home.
Together the four of us have cooked wonderful meals: eggs, pancakes with honey and jam, potatoes, and tea for breakfast, spaghetti, potatoes, garlic bread, baked brie, and Oreo milk shakes for dinner. We have planed out our days, and function just like a little family; each of us responsible for a different aspect of the groups well being. This is what home is to me, and this is why I love Arizona. Arizona brought me the people that make me feel at home.
Tomorrow I will be venturing back with my friends for a short visit to Arizona. my first since this last summer. I am looking forward not just to the warm sunlight, but also to seeing the people who continue to teach me lessons, inspire me, and make me feel at home despite the fact that they are often hundreds of miles away.
So now as I sit here bundled by the fire listening to the sounds of my friends it seems fitting to write. Another lesson learned on my journey to adulthood I suppose.
Have a great night and thanks for reading,
Birdy
