"Home" sick

"You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.”

It's been 10 months and my heart still aches for Baltimore. It's funny because I would have never thought I would become so attached to that city. I mean, this is the town that is home to the Ravens. That alone has always made me feel a bit of a disconnect from the city - what can I say. It's in my blood. I truly think my blood runs black and gold. I despise the Ravens. And most of their fans. I know they would complain about "obnoxious Steeler fans" as well, but I've always been a courteous fan (well, except when I wear my "Where was Ray Lewis when Joey Porter was shot" shirt. Because that's just awesome). However I've had a few unprompted run ins. Like the night when I was at book club and a woman well into her 70s wanted to dish it (calling Ben a rapist) but couldn't take it (as I rebutted with questions about Ray Lewis's innocence). Or maybe it was the night that I argued the merits of Ben vs. Kyle Boller (we see how that comparison panned out) with man who then decided a physical altercation was the best way to solve our dilemma. I digress... Football is threaded in my skin, flowing through my veins. I say all of this to highlight why I didn't think the city of Baltimore would have an impact on me. I was a Pittsburgh girl at heart, just stopping in Baltimore along the way to a PhD. So you can imagine my surprise with the hole that Baltimore has left in my heart. 9 years, one husband, three babies, one PhD later. Charm City isn't just a physical location. It's the keeper of my memories from some of the most important years of my life. I find myself reminiscing many nights when I run out alone to go to the store or to pick up dinner. As I walk the streets of Jersey City I'm blindsided with the sadness that I feel thinking back to our first home as a family. 

We had a really special neighborhood.  We lived in a little suburb within the city where all of our neighbors were friends.  We all seemed to be in the same spot in life, having similar interests, and maybe even more importantly, similarly-aged children.  Coming home from work each day, you knew you could pull into your garage, walk in the house to get the kids, and walk right back out into our alleyway to join everyone playing baseball (kids) or having a glass of wine (adults) while someone ordered pizza for the kids and someone else ran inside to cut up some fruit for them.  Or, when a tropical storm threatens, you can have a "storm soiree" and this is what your living room would look like: 

(Looking at this picture just makes me smile.  It's from August 2011 so our little ones look like babies here).  

We are starting to plan Hudson's birthday party.  When asked who he wants to invite, he named his friends from Baltimore.  Hadley often stops and asks if I remember "when we used to do that in Baltimore".  Every night in their prayers, we pray for all of our friends and teachers in Baltimore.  Part of me wants to keep talking about it so that they don't forget the memories.

In addition to these adorable kids, Ryan and I made lifelong friends. As you get older, making friends proves to be much harder than it was in your 20s.  Once you have a family, it's even harder.  Where do you meet people? How do you find the time to connect? Our neighborhood created a setting where those friendships could flourish organically.  When your kids are out playing in limited space, you get to know people.  You chat.  You schedule playdates. You drink.  You put the kids to bed.  You drink more.  And then repeat.  When I was pregnant with Hayes, Ryan was working in NYC and often getting home at 8p or staying over night.  On numerous occasions, my neighbors would take Hudson and Hadley, get them dinner, give them a bath, take them out for ice cream, or just take them outside to play.  All just to help me.  Having a support system like that is pretty incredible.

Our send-off party

There are big things I miss.  I miss my job.  I miss my friends.  I miss City Limits. Then there's also a lot of little joys that I miss.  I miss relaxing while watching football in bed (did I mention football again?? Seriously, I have a problem).  I miss making waffles with the kids on Sunday morning in our kitchen.  I miss watching Ryan and Hudson from the kitchen window, playing football in the grassy area out front (aka The Cage).  I miss snuggling on our couch in the glow of our Christmas tree lights.  I miss our traditions. There's an empty pit in my stomach when I think about these memories. A friend told me that I need to live through all four seasons in our new home before I can start to let go and now I see why.  I need to unravel the joy of these memories from the physical space. I need to recreate these moments in a new space.  With new friends.  And new traditions.

I know that it will continue to get easier.  For all of us. The sadness will fade. But right now, 10 months later, it's still pretty raw.

#aBaltimorelovestory