Wednesday, December 1, 2010
home, sweet Charleston home
I saw this tree every Christmas for five Christmases, five Decembers I spent in the most beautiful city on this entire planet (and I've seen some cities that could truly boast in the beauty department). And this year even if it's just for two days, I'll get to see it again, go back again to my beautiful Charleston. I thought after two years I might miss this city less, that it might hurt a little less acutely when I think of the white, almost balletic bridge spanning over the Cooper River, of salty, briney, steaming oysters on cold nights, of soft green expanses of tidal marsh in every direction, of spanish moss and cracked bricks, of gas lanterns and sweetgrass baskets, of empty winter beaches and Shem Creek at night, lit up by boats and bars reflecting off of the bottle of beer in your hand. But I don't miss Charleston any less. I don't think I ever could. Because even though Richmond is my home, home, the place I grew up and where all my family is, Charleston is the home my soul chose. And so whenever I am away from my city, homesickness will just be a part of my life, a constant, pressing sense of something gone, something important that I just can't locate.
But this weekend, for two days, I'll be home.