Tiny ants wriggling about

The place that I feel most at home is at my father’s house.  This was not where I primarily lived growing up.  I tell people I grew up in Huntington.  My Dad’s house is near West Hamlin on Bear Creek.  It is difficult to put my finger on exactly why this house feels more like home then my Mother’s house where I lived while attending school. 

            Memories of things happening at this house seem more attached to “me” than other memories.  It may be that I am more like my father than my mother.  Spending time in the house helps me relax and forget about problems.  Sometimes I think the drive out to the house is part of the calming effect.

            This is the house where I spent weekends and summers growing up.  My parents were divorced and my father was only awarded visitation during these times.  To my brother and I, it was always like a vacation to stay at his house.  This feeling has never faded.  If all goes well this is where I will one day retire.

            Anyone who comes from a divorced family knows that when you turn twelve you get the once in a lifetime privilege to tell one of your parents that you don’t want to live with them.  When I turned twelve I told my mother that I was leaving to live with my father in his house on Bear Creek.  This was very difficult to do, but I never questioned my decision.  This house has always been my home.