#WhereAreTheUbryTerrells ... Leg 6: California
Flying from Ohio to California is like flying from home to home. Ohio was relaxed and quiet. Ohio was dandelions. Ohio was walks down the lane with the dog and coffee in the morning with the parents. Ohio was home. California is busy and loud. California is traffic and warm skies and orange poppies. California is coffee in the morning with the kids and then running off to meet up with friends. California is home too. It’s funny, to feel so at home in such different worlds. But it reveals a truth that I spent my entire 20s searching for: home is not a place. (I was sitting at an outdoor Starbucks in Albuquerque, New Mexico, when I wrote that last paragraph. A small group of people were chatting, waiting for their drinks, and as they said goodbye I overheard the woman say: “I’m not seeking any more. I’ve found it.” I don’t know to what she was referring to—a job, a spouse, a home, a higher power—but I understood immediately that deep sense of contentment.) ...