I have lived in Baltimore for about 30 years and yet I sometimes don’t quite feel at home. To be clear, my condo feels like home. It’s me. It has my stuff. I am comfortable and, frankly, I am fine staying inside without going out much. I love my space. But when I think about the world outside my apartment, I’m not sure the city is what I think of as my home with a capital H. There are things are about Baltimore that I love and there are things that are … not so great. I’ve lived in other places where I have the same feelings – sort of home but sort of not. So perhaps it was not a surprise when I recently considered moving.

After having the flu this year and caring for my sick mother and my sick self, I couldn’t help think about how nice it would be to have family around. Someone who would make us soup or do a load of laundry or run to the store. Now, we were not bedridden when we were sick – we got up each day, got dressed, and did a lot of our regular stuff. We were just exhausted. Had our symptoms been more severe, I may have reached out to friends for help or to my mother’s caregiver to see if she could do more to help us out. I mean, I was still putting in some hours at work, so I didn’t want to impose.

I talked with my brother, who lives in central New York State, and we started looking at the possibility of me moving up to be closer. Although I never lived in that part of New York, the thought of going back to my state of origin felt like going home. There was something comforting about that. It awakened a longing that I didn’t know existed. My brother seemed excited too.

Of course, reality hit when looking at houses and considering mortgages and really contemplating a move. It was not the most practical thing to do and, financially, it was not a good move. Ultimately, I decided to put the move on hold and embrace staying in Maryland, which truly is my second home. One thing was clear to me: even though I haven’t lived in the state for more than 30 years, New York State is still home. Whether I will ever go back there to live, there is something special about where I lived for the first 28 years of my life. It was formative and foundational. It was where I grew up – where I first experienced roots and wings. And where I figured out who I was and what to do with my life.