I’ve written before about not being sure where to call home. It’s a stream of consciousness I’ve had multiple times, and I find I invariably come to no conclusion… unless I happen to be in Washington at the time.
We are soooooooooooo (I don’t think I can include enough ‘o’s to emphasize here) happy to be in Seattle for the summer. The employer has set us up in a great location–up close and personal to downtown. I have an incredible view out our living room all day, and little slivers of water view when I look at just the right angle. It’s a beautiful, brand new apartment. They’re paying us. My family is just an hour away. The dr and hospital that I love is blocks away. I can literally see the library from my living room. But these are all just conveniences.
I distinctly remember one time when flying in to Seattle from Alaska, wondering if it would even feel like home anymore, or if it would just be a place to visit my parents. When we got through the cloud cover and I saw downtown, I actually started crying. On the airplane. And tried to hide that fact from the other passengers. I’m quite sure I failed.
And just the other day when we were on the freeway, one of us commented how much we love driving on the freeway here (top 5 worst commutes in America, what?). Everywhere we go, one of us is saying to the other we love how green it is, or we love how the houses were designed here, we love driving down the hill in Ravenna, we love seeing glimpses of the sound, we love old craftsmans, we love the people, we love Gas Works, we love the buildings on UW campus, we love the trees, the rhodies, the hydrangeas, the clouds, the fog, the water, the bridges… you name it, we love it here.
I forgot just how many people up here I love spending time with. Between friends from work, and friends from our old congregation, I could actually have a social life again.
Being in Washington just always feels right.
*the state song… in case you were wondering why I deviated from Ty’s preferred sentence case