Home Sweet Home

There truly is no place like home. Nine hours, 564 miles, are what separate me from State College, Pennsylvania to Wilmington, N.C. I've been to the big city lights of New York and the picturesque old southern cobblestone streets of Charleston S.C. I've seen the monuments of Washington and the historic areas of Williamsburg Virginia. Yet, nothing can ever replace the euphoric  sensation of the sand on my feet and the salty seawater on my face that can only be felt on Wrightsville Beach. Many times I get asked " What makes your town so special"? "Why do you love Wilmington, North Carolina so much?" Too be honest, I didn't always feel this sense of belonging and enjoyment for my town.But now that I'm hundreds of miles away from home, I truly understand what made my hometown my home. I understand how living in the South shaped the person I am today.

It was a special place. A place where I could walk through the grass barefoot and ignore the ants and random worms. I would walk around the half acre of land in my backyard over and over again, feeling the soft sensation of the freshly trimmed grass or the cool mud after a rainstorm.  In that backyard, I nursed abandoned kittens back to health and watched them grow and expand their litters. It was the same place where my dog decided that a certain scent  he caught was extra appealing, and sprinted outside the gate and down the street and disappeared, only to come back an hour later with his tail wagging, because he realized that that place was his home as well. It was a place that was once decked out from top to bottom with Christmas decorations every year,  color corresponding to the furniture in each specific room.Even though things got busy as I got older, we still rushed to put up the decorations, the little clay houses adorned with carolers and storefront lights,and the tree, even if it was two days before Christmas.  I can smell the scents of Thanksgiving and Christmas, the smell of the candles and the annual prime rib. I can hear the classic tunes that would play from my great uncle's car every time he pulled into the driveway when he came back in town to visit.

It was a special town. So much time was spent in the downtown area every weekend just walking down near the riverfront admiring the Henrietta and the way the sun slid down behind the long bridge. Many visits were made to Kilwin's where I would always order the red chocolate covered apple, and immediately regret when I decided to change things up and order the granny smith version. Impromptu drive's towards the coast were a common occurrence just because I loved to experience the atmosphere of the people and the lights of the bars and restaurants from an outsider's perspective. I remember having such iconic memories such as being an Azalea Belle, and experiencing Airlie Gardens during Christmas as the once cherry blossomed filled trees were covered with Christmas lights. Every year was spent going to the Azalea Festival and celebrating the start of spring while taking in the various vendors. Fireworks occurred for every big festival and activity that took place in town.  It's amazing how one town that seems so small compared to the big cities, could seem so large and packed while waiting on the highway during 5 o'clock traffic or during a major event that took place downtown.

It has a special type of people. The friendliest most homey individuals are the one's that you meet while chatting in the line of a grocery store or sitting in the booth of a restaurant. The people who welcome you home, back into the congregation of church when you've been gone for 3 months. The people who have seen you grow up and mature and accomplish certain milestones in life. Southern hospitality that radiate's from the most unexpected places. Friends who have experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows and have been by your side through drill meets, late night practices and early morning rises. The people who refer to you as sugar or youngin. The people who know  the perfect concoction for a great cup of sweet tea. The hipsters, old southern ladies, and country folk, that make Wilmington more than a town but a home.

The South made me who I am today. It molded me into a person who is compassionate, love's hearing a thick southern drawl and the smell of the outdoors after a thunderstorm. I've experienced the busyness of large cities and have always appreciated the slowdown of the country backroads. I've listened to the upbeat top 40 hits, but always prefer the rhyme of a nice country song. Being away from Wilmington has made me appreciate the neverending warm temperatures and the tourists on the beach because there are time's I just want to be able to sit on the lifeguard stand once again and admire the water or take long drives in the heat of the day to run errands with my mom, That town is the town I go back to on breaks and feel instance peace because I know it is home.Penn State is my temporary home but Wilmington will always be the place that I know I can always return to. It's hard to really articulate why the South is so special because it's something that must be experienced. it's not a region, it's a lifestyle. People may leave for a while but they'll always come back. It truly is a special place.