I grew up in Orange, a small town in Texas.  I try to come home a couple of times a year to visit my family.  With the exception of my children, all of my family still reside in Texas.  I was the ‘black sheep’ who moved away to New Jersey at 21 years old, pregnant with my parents’ first grandchild.  I’m not sure my mother ever quite forgave me for doing that!  Both of my sons were born in New Jersey, but we lived outside of Atlanta for about 23 years—from the time my oldest was 12 and youngest was 2.  I moved to Tennessee when I became single again.

It’s a bonus when I get to visit with long time friends while in my hometown.  This past trip, I got to visit with Pam, a friend since the sixth grade, and with three of my mother’s dear friends.  That always makes me feel close to Mom again.

One morning, my niece, Jill, my sister, Gayle, and I went out for breakfast.  While we were waiting for our food, Jill looked over and said, “There’s Becky!” I looked over, and sure enough, it was a high school friend I hadn’t seen in many years, eating breakfast with her husband, Pablo!  Jill started calling her name several times, but she obviously didn’t hear her.  Finally, I said I was going to go over and say hello.  Jill said, “Aunt Belinda, just sit down beside her!”  So I walked over, and plopped down next to her in the booth.  Her husband looked at me funny, but we didn’t know each other that well.  Finally Becky looked over at me—and I said, “You’re not Becky!”  She said, “No, but I’m Vicki, so you’re close!”  I looked over at Jill and she had her head down on the table!   While I was quite embarrassed, I couldn’t help thinking that I was glad it was me instead of my shy sister.  She would have had a heart attack right on the spot!

Of course, the highlight of my trip was getting to visit with my sweet great nephew, Jude.  He is about 2 1/2 years old and adorable!  He’s not a big talker, but I continually tried to get him to say BeBe to no avail. One day, he grabbed my finger to take me to a different room.  (He did this many times a day.) I told him I would go if he called me BeBe.  He kept pulling and I kept telling him the same thing.  Finally he looked at me, said BeBe clear as a bell, and of course, I went with him to the other room.  Little stinker—he CAN talk, he just chooses not to most of the time!

I’m home now, getting ready for another trip.  I’ve found that after three weeks in the same place, I’m itching to go SOMEwhere again.  I wonder if it’s just my love of travel or if I’m searching for something??  I’m still trying to figure out where I belong.