“Life takes you to unexpected places; love always brings you home.”
This quote is framed on my wall. It’s always there, but I rarely pay it any mind.
Recently, however, the idea of “home” has been permeating my thoughts, like a song that you just can’t get out of your head. Maybe it was the chapter of my book called “Coming Home.” Maybe it was watching Dory try to swim home to her long forgotten family. Maybe it’s a result of being on the go and not quite home enough. Whatever the reason, the thought of “home” just lingers lately.
Just outside Cincinnati, across the Ohio River in Northern Kentucky, there’s a stretch of highway along I-71 and I-75 fondly known as The Cut in the Hill. Heading north, as you round the curve and descend down a steep incline, suddenly the city of Cincinnati is sprawling before you. A perfect, picturesque view of the Queen City that you catch for only a moment before you continue speeding down the interstate.
Exactly a year ago, I remember coming up on The Cut in the Hill as I made my way into Cincinnati to begin my new life here. My sister and I screamed with excitement as she snapped pictures and the U-Haul that my parents were towing rattled along in front of us. It’s a moment that I will never forget – seeing a new city that I would shortly be calling home. Knowing that I had arrived and that I’d be here for the foreseeable future.