Growing up, my parents expressed over and over again "home is where family is, not a specific place." I always had trouble grasping this concept, though. When I was very young, my home was the house I grew up in. As I aged, home grew from a single location to all of Glencoe, my hometown, to the entire New Trier Township.
After spending an extended period of time on my own in a big city where I knew nothing and no one, I realized that my parents were right: home is not a specific place. Unfortunately, I found that they were also wrong: it is not solely where family is. I had created a new home away from family that I considered as much a part of me as my one on the Northshore.
Upon returning to Glencoe for the first time in four months, there were a few things I had to do before anything else. I laid on my couch and watched an episode of "Grey’s Anatomy," I snuggled with my dog on the floor and I got into my beloved car and drove.
When I left my house, I did not know my exact destination, but I knew I needed to drive. I started down Sheridan Road and my subconscious took it from there. I drove down Sheridan past my old parking spot, my high school, the right-hand turn I used to take every Friday night, the grocery store I would go to after sailing lessons, and the street I went down almost every day this past summer. Eventually, I took a left and went down to the beach and sat there in my toasty car staring out at the snow-covered sand and the icing over water.
I could have stayed there for hours just staring, but I knew my adventure wasn’t over yet. I backed out of the lot and drove up to my best friend’s house and around my high school one final time before returning to Sheridan for my final descent home.
I did not know why, at the time, I felt such a strong urge to see these landmarks again, but they were special. They held something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but felt incomplete without. Through some contemplation, I realized what made each of these places so significant. They were essential pieces that made up my ‘home’ on the Northshore. It was these spots mashed together that created my bubble of safety, familiarity, and comfort. It was at that moment that I constructed my own definition of home: a place where your happiest memories are.
These memories are your defining moments. The time you realized who your true friends were, the time you laughed so hard you cried, the time you drove around for hours listening to music knowing there was nothing you’d rather be doing, the time you sat alone reflecting on years past and how you got to this moment in time. It is within these locations that something magical occurred time and time again. You know deep in your heart that if they didn’t exist, you wouldn’t exist. It is all of the memories tied with emotions that came together to create your home.
