"You can't have roots and wings"

That quote is from one of my favorite (and cutest) movies: "Sweet Home Alabama".

I was raised in a small town in South Georgia. I won't even say the name, because if you're not from, or around, there, you don't know where it's at anyway. My parents still live in the same neighborhood/house that we lived in when we first moved there when I was in 7th grade. (Side note: I was actually born in another town, and that's my hometown, but it's not my "home" town.) There's really not much to do there. It's your typical small town. Everyone knows everyone. Growing up, all I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.

And I did just that. After I graduated, I was gone within two weeks. My life took several different paths at that point. I married, divorced, then decided I'd leave the state. I had no one to answer to and no children. I saw my chance. I promptly moved to San Francisco, California. And that's where my life began to get really interesting and fun.

I met, and befriended, some great people out there - some of us still keep in touch. All of us were from different walks of life. It's also where I found my "far-away-home". They accepted me out there. I was still Tammy From Georgia, but I was allowed to just be "me". I had a great job, a couple of great apartments, and ever better friends. I gambled in Vegas, visited Los Angeles, learned to snowboard (and gambled) in Lake Tahoe, visited Napa Valley (several times), watch the Oakland A's, ate at some of the finest restaurants, saw some of the finest plays, met some bad ass drag queens, went to the E.E. Ball (my Mother would be horrified!), Sears Point Raceway to see Jeff Gordon kick ass, and saw other places and visited other sites around the state. Jen and I had legendary Halloween parties, and gatherings in general. Kim and I partied and danced up a storm at the top clubs in town. I loved everything about California. They have a whole different set of rules there.

After my Great-Grandmother ("Gramp") and Grandfather ("Granddaddy Folds") passed away within a year of one another, I thought it best that I get closer to home. Those last minute cross-country flights are expensive, ya know. I also, by then, had the first of two nephews and a niece being born and I didn't want to miss out on their growin up. I found my "out" (although I did not want to leave CA), in that my company was moving its home office to Ohio.

Now, let me just say this right now. I never said to myself growing up "I want to live in Ohio". Who says that? Nevertheless, I moved with the company to Columbus, Ohio and ended up loving it -- and The Ohio State Buckeyes. I met, and dated, a Frenchman (originally from Paris) for 5 years. Although he was great at vacations, he sucked as a boyfriend. We won't even get in to that drama. But while with him, we took vacations to Austria and Germany (for a two week ski trip with his family that still lived in France) and to France and Switzerland (while he was on his 2-week R&R from deployment - Major in the Army Reserves and was on deployment to Afghanistan). We also went to Utah together on business and I learned to snow ski (which is really cool), so I was able to ski some pretty rad slopes in Austria. He also had a 30' cabin cruiser that we took to the lake, and to Put-In-Bay, almost every weekend during the Summer.

And it was fun.

But, with all that fun, so far away from home, comes homesickness. I'd just purchased a brand new two-story condo in the "in" area of Columbus and furnished it with all brand new furniture. Once I got settled in, I started realizing that although I had some really cool friends and a great life....it just wasn't "home". I mean, it was my home, and I loved that place...but it wasn't "home".

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Home is where the heart is". Or, "Home is where you make it". And that's true to a certain extent. But to me, "home" will always be my Mama's house -- and that small town.

I missed my family.

I was missing graduations, nieces/nephews being born, little league games, family Thanksgiving's, family Christmas', family reunions, old friends...and that small town life. Now, I came home for most of the holidays, but not always. And that wears you down after a while.

You see, although I loved my life and I'd done all (well, most all) that I wanted to, I was missing home. I knew that if I came home, that I wouldn't have this awesome life I'd been living. I'd have an even better life -- because then my family would be a part of it again.

I'd traveled so much, seen so much. But what was more important was home, family, and that small town that I wished for so many years to get the hell away from.

So, after a year of owning the condo I put it up for sale, gave a 3-month notice at work, and I came home. I live in a centrally-located area that's convenient to my home (where I was raised) and my hometown (where I was born, and where most of my family live). I am also only an hour away from Atlanta, which I luuurrrvvvveee and can head up there when I need a taste of big city life.

See, you make a choice. "You can't have roots and wings". You can't live in two places you love. You live at what you make is your home...and then you fly away every now and then. But you come back.

I chose "home".

And although there's a part of me that will never be the same person as I was when I first left... the rest of me will always be the same person I was.

Just a small town Southern girl.