Home Is Where the Heart Is

Home Is Where the Heart Is

            There is a saying by Naval Captain Pliny the Elder, “Home is where the heart is…”, but what if your heart is in several places?  Are all of those places home?  I tend to believe so because home is with the people you love presently, but can also be where you grew up and where your childhood friends are.  We always tend to remember our childhood home and the memories that helped to shape us into what we are today.

            A piece of my heart calls Ulysses, Kansas, home.  This is the small rural, out in the middle of nowhere town in the very southwestern corner of Kansas where I was born and raised.  It’s where I went through 13 years (K-12) of school with most of the same friends.  It’s the place and people that helped shape and mold me into who I am today.

            It’s the place where you could ride your bike clear across town and your parents didn’t worry.  It’s where we made our own fun and let our imaginations rule by playing outside until it was dark, and it was way before the days of cell phones, video games, and the Internet.

            It’s where I met my most cherished, best, and lifelong friend in the whole world.  It’s where I decided I wanted to be a teacher because of the influence of the teachers in my life. 

It’s where once a Ulysses Tiger, always a Ulysses Tiger.  It’s where you chant, “We’re from Ulysses couldn’t be prouder.  If you can’t hear us, we’ll yell a little louder,” and “Give me a T…give me an I…give me a G…give me an E…give me an R…give me an S.  What’s that spell?  TIGERS!”  With those chants comes the sense of pride that only growing up in that small rural community can give.

            It’s where I epically failed to ever learn to drive a stick shift, but learned to drive an automatic on muddy, dirt roads with wheat, milo, or corn growing on either side of the ditch.  It’s where I spent quality time riding in the tandem truck with my dad and brothers on a cold Saturday in October during sugar beet harvest.  I didn’t see them often during harvest time so it was a treat for me to ride with them to the dump to unload the sugar beets.  It’s where I attended church every Sunday with my family… and friends that became family.

            It’s where I always returned after spreading my wings and leaving the nest.  It’s where I still return to because I have family there and my parents and oldest brother are buried there.  It’s where a piece of my heart is and always will be.  It’s HOME!