HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS.

                                                 HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS.

 

I remember a day, 60 years ago, when it became apparent to me that it was time to leave my parents home and fend for myself. We lived on the edge of a small town in Central Minnesota and I was going to the big city to make my mark. I remember a day, a few days before it was time to leave, when I went to the woods not far from home one last time. There was a place there by a small stream where I often went to think and I knew I was leaving it behind me. I knew that day, that leaving wasn’t something I wanted to do, it was something I had to do.

 

For me, nature is an aphrodisiac. For many its music, money or drugs and alcohol but for me it’s simply nature and the world around me where I’m in my element. After I moved to Minneapolis for work, I lived in the outskirts of the suburbs. It was a short walk to the woods and a meandering little creek that for the time being was still untouched by the developers. Oh, you had to tune out the traffic noise from the freeways, not that far away, but that wasn’t hard to do. When I wasn’t working, I went there often; found a tree to lean against by the creek and just tuned out everything else. Somehow it was similar to the place I had gone too in my adolescence. Similar yes, but not the same.

 

Then things got more serious with work and a family and I had little time to spare for nature. But the desire to be there in nature never left me. That went on for thirty years. Retirement was slowly becoming a reality and not so much a dream anymore. Then with my wife’s blessing I found a little piece of property on a quiet lake and I thought to myself, “I’m back. Back where I belong. Back up north where I came from and I am so blessed.”

 

It’s been over thirty-five years since we came to Crosslake. A lot has changed for me but not my love of this place. When my wife died nine years ago my first inclination was to move away but that was just the grief talking. Then I heard a voice that said, “You can’t run way from your past.” Yes, you lost the love of your life but don’t lose the reason you came here in the first place.” Then Pat came into my life and along with her came some semblance of sensibility back to me again. At first, I quit thinking about moving away because of her, but as time went on, I realized it wasn’t just her that was keeping me here. It was this place.

 

I love to watch documentaries about this planet and the place we call home. It seems absurd to me that NASA is planning trips to other planets, that they know are barren rock, void of any meaningful way to survive. At the same time, leaving behind the most beautiful place known to the universe. I have traveled a lot over the years and seen a great deal of this great country. Places equally as beautiful as home-- but yet-- not home. because home is where your memories lie. Home is always where your heart is. Pat and I travel south for the winter because of old age and the troubles associated with winter and getting around in the ice and snow. Were always happy to get there but only because we love to be outside and not cooped up. Then comes spring to the northland and we are far more excited to get back here, then when we left. I think we both realize that the day will come when the trip will be too troublesome but that’s alright. If you have to be stuck someplace-- who could ask for a better place then this.