Already missin' the sweet, sunny South

Just got back from a 4 day trip to Georgia. Went down to do some work in the ER at Athens Regional, and while most people might think I'm seriously crazy for driving 1300 miles round trip to work all weekend, I do not. It's true what they say: home is where the heart is. Now, I'm not saying I made a mistake moving to Maryland, or even that I'm not happy here. It's just that home is home. There is something about the place you came from, some cosmic connection that is hard to put aside. As I was driving through some of the city streets in Athens, even out in the countryside, I couldn't help but think about my childhood as different memories ran through my mind mile after mile. Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock for a moment and climb the steps to my grandmother's house smelling her freshly fried potatoes and chicken on the table. Or maybe I could run through the woods with my cousins and play our little version of house - designated by the trees and the boundaries between them. We could giggle together and get into some trouble together. Much of childhood is mundane: get up, go to school, do your homework, do chores, go to sleep and do it all over again - but some moments, some smells, some thoughts and feelings stick out like a deer in a cornfield when I ride down those country roads. Athens is where I finished my childhood and found myself. It's a great town with a lot of great opportunities lurking wherever you seek to find them. Today I drove to the campus bookstore and bought some Georgia stuff. Somehow I needed to remind myself that I still loved the place I came from, that I still felt a deep connection not only to the place, but to the people, to my family and friends, and even to the streets and buildings that I so frequently passed by not so long ago. If you read anything about the paranormal, you'll come across this: places have a "memory." I have many memories of Georgia. I wonder what Georgia remembers about me?