So yesterday I actually teared up a little when I finally saw the Gulf of Mexico and the first small sliver of sandy land out the window of our plane. Really. Of course I love traveling, adore trying and seeing new things and places, but I love coming home even more. And, clearly, over the last five years it’s become more and more clear to me that this weird, wild, wonderful place truly is my home and everything about me is more at peace when I’m in Florida.
Home… a word that means so many things but to me means roots, a sense of belonging, and a feeling of being in place that I do not feel anywhere else. When it comes to Florida I am a boomerang; when I’m not here a part of me longs fiercely to go back, and I get home as soon as I can. Today I am home. Thank you Florida, Lakeland, and our friends for pulling us into your warp and weave. We are home.