Coming Home Again

I’m homebound this morning after spending the past week in our nation’s capital.

Washington D.C. used to be my home. It’s where my parents lived and worked, it’s where I grew up, where I made my earliest friendships, where I went to school, and it’s where I formed many memories that still live within me to this day. It’s also home to two of my brothers and their families.

In the past, whenever I visited D.C., I would say I was “going home.” That’s because, in many ways, Washington is a place where I built a version of myself, and it always felt like home to me. I also say that I’m “going home” whenever I head to Hyannisport, MA, in the summer. That's also a place that feels like home to me. It’s where my parents are buried, and it has been home to me and many members of my family over the years.