I mentioned that it gets dark fairly early here, but I didn’t mention how much the cold is getting to me.
I don’t like the cold. I have a theory that I’m not anthropologically suited to it having most likely descended from nomadic desert peoples. Or I’m just a huge baby. This past Wednesday, when I left our building, I exclaimed, “It’s beautiful out here!” and then found out it was fifty degrees. I’m officially losing my Florida blood and becoming a Midsouth person.
I know it sounds strange, but that moment felt significant to me.
Y. and I headed over to the Memphis Brooks Museum of Art that morning after depositing N. at the venue for her holiday show rehearsal. My two year old son and I quietly walked through the museum, and had interesting conversations about shields and bad guys and flowers. Then, I came across a tiny exhibit called “Pines to Palmettos: Florida Landscapes of Walter R. Locke.”
I walked past the understated etchings of places near or similar to the place where I had grown up, and I suddenly missed that the trees were probably still green there.
And I missed the sandy soil that we tried to grow things in.
And I remembered the way you could get away with wearing flip flops until the first week of December.
And, man, I missed my mom.
And, then inevitably I thought of all of the places I had taken for granted because they were always going to be there.
There’s a clock tower in Daytona proper that has been there ever since I can remember. When I was a girl, I would play around its steps with my brother while my parents walked up and down the boardwalk or sat on a bench and watched us. When I was a teenager, it was where we would sit for a few minutes to figure out what we were going to do that evening after spending the day at the beach. When I was in my 20s, it was a place I would sometimes visit just to clear my head.
And then I just sort of forgot about it.
Until now.
Florida still feels like my home. In the midst of a “beautiful” 50 degree morning, home momentarily slipped away from me. It’s ridiculous, but I feel disloyal.
We’re all here together, and that’s enough to make me happy… but I still feel like we’re not home.
Home still feels there. I wonder if it always will.
Daytona Beach, Florida -- Clock Tower at the Boardwalk
You know how the time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives
We were born and raised in a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days…Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they’re memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?- Adele, Someone Like You
Nice post, Faiqa.
Sometimes I miss Florida, too. Lucky for me, I’m visiting in nine days!
That feeling? A big part of why I came back to California from Virginia. I grew up in a climate in which we cry if it’s less than 65 or so. And what is this snow thing? Oh yeah. You drive a few hours for the weekend to spend time amid the white stuff but you don’t live in it. And dead of winter when it is in the 40s and pouring rain? I still wear my flip flops. They remind me that I live in a place in which the weather is much more temperate than the rest of the country. They remind me that I have never lived less than a half hour drive from an ocean. I wish you luck. I for one have come to realize that the ocean thing is really important to me. But I guess having a large river nearby might do as well.
Us floridians
miss the phenomenon known as “Faiqa the great” as well.
After almost 15 years outside Florida, the homesickness waxes and wanes for me. I always feel comfortable when I go home and there are days when I miss the sounds of the ocean or a walk on the beach. I do, however, love the change of colors in the fall and the blooms in the spring. Experiencing the seasons has allowed me to appreciate change more. At the same time, there’s no place like home.
Just FYI, still wearing flip-flops, no end in sight.
probably won’t help to tell you i am still wearing flip flops here in pittsburgh, eh?
ok though…seriously, i think it is perfectly fine if florida is always home and you just live in tn for a while.
I moved away from Pittsburgh when I was twelve. That means that for more than half my life, I have been away from home. I lived in NJ longer than I lived in Pittsburgh, but when people ask me where home is, I still reply that my blood runs black and gold. I get home to visit from time to time, and it’s always like taking a fresh breath of magical reassuring air. At the same time, I love experiencing my adventurous life of living in different places, and finding both similarities and differences that make it feel homey. I think you may always miss Florida, but as I understand you, I think you will cherish any place that you live.
come home more often. or call me when you come home!
Still wearing flip flops down in hell too. But it’s been cloudy and lousy for days. You’re missing nothing.
It’s strange, but for as long as I’ve lived here, this doesn’t feel like home to me. Long Island, where I was born, does. Is it possible that the place you’re born imprints on you?
I would guess that Florida will feel like home until you’re living somewhere else that feels like home, some place you chose specifically, you know?
It’s weird, but now that I’m not living in Florida it is the place that feels most like home to me. And I say that from a couch in the state where I was born, the place that I thought surely would ALWAYS feel like home. I was so excited to come back here this time, to get my fill of that sense of home, but I am more a stranger in a strange land than I have ever been.
Well, to be fair, you haven’t been in TN too long. Who knows, though – your sense of home might always be Florida, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with that.
I have lived in more places than I can count on two hands, including overseas. I’ve lived in some real crapholes and I’ve lived in beautiful Mediterranean villages. It doesn’t matter. I always end up back in Reno. It’s where I was born, and where I had my first love, and even where my son was born because I came home while his Dad was in Iraq. It’s my home, and no matter where I am in the world, whenever things are wrong or I am sad it’s where I want to be. So to answer your question – I don’t think it does go away. Not for me anyway.
You had me at the cold part—it’s getting cold here and I feel a case of SAD coming on, I swear. I’m a New Orleans girl through and through. I love the seasons here, but I miss my mom, all the green things, and to me, home will always feel THERE.
And then the Adele lyrics at the end sent me over the edge.
Lovely post.
Now I’m off to change a poopy diaper.
xoxo
This is beautiful! I’ve lived all over the country and finally came “home” 10 years ago, so I related to everything you said. There’s no place like home.
PS. I live just north of where you grew up and we’re STILL wearing flip flops!
I hear you! I was born and grew up in Sardinia, Italy – intense ultra-dry heat in summer, warm spring and fall, mild winters. I moved away a long time ago, and have lived in Denmark, New York and Switzerland, but my body still reacts poorly to the cold. My skin and hair lose radiance and I just feel like I am meant to spend winter in deep sleep like a bear. So I guess that either there’s something about this ancestry thing, or I am a huge baby, too
Ha! I’d give anything to be enjoying Memphis weather. I’m in Connecticut and… brr! I’m ready to either cryogenically freeze myself until summer, or throw myself into the car and keep driving until I hit the Fort Lauderdale area. I will trade you for one day, and then we’ll see how cold you are.
And speaking of Florida, as crazy as this may sound, I’ve only spent maybe three months out of my life down there, but it feels more like home to me than anywhere else. I want so badly to move to Deerfield Beach, but unfortunately Mike doesn’t want to move that far out of state, so we’re sort of at a stalemate. I’m hoping I can work on him a little more, because not only do I just love Florida, but New England winters really hurt my joints, and the milder weather would be so much gentler on my bones. I think it’ll work out, though, because he’s said several times that he would just need to have the means to be back in Connecticut within a couple of hours in case something happened to someone in his family. I guess we’ll see!
As several people already said, there’s no reason why you can’t live in Florida again. Nothing is forever, you know? Enjoy Tennessee as a sort of extended vacation, and then see how you feel down the road about moving back to Florida, or maybe even seeing some other places. You can do anything!
xo
Great post which has caused me to reflect on where home is for me. I grew up in Orange County, CA and I always refer to it as home. When I visit, it feels like home still even though I get all retro with my thoughts of “why did they tear that place down?”
BTW, having been to Daytona now (back in Oct 2009), I can see how nice it would be to live by the beach and ocean.