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I grew up in a house situated on about 127 acres of land in the middle of nowhere, or at least it felt that way. Our land was right smack dab in the middle of Beech Creek Hunting Club 16 miles north of Silsbee, Texas. Our only neighbor was a cattle rancher and his family on a similar plot of land on our southern property line. We were the end of the power line and the phone line. We had our own well and septic line. The land was virgin timber and thicket and I knew every inch of it. From the time I was 6 to 18 years old those woods were my playground - my fortress of solitude. It was home.

Somewhere along the way I became an adult (our so people keep trying to tell me) and my life has taken me to faraway places. After high school I joined the Army. I did my Basic Training at Fort Benning, Georgia and my permanent duty station was Fort Drum, New York. I got to travel to Germany, Puerto Rico, Honduras, Panama, California, and Virginia while serving in the Army. I got married, rented a house, had three kids, and got divorced. I moved in with friends in New York. I moved in with friends in Michigan (Muskegon and Monroe). I moved in with a friend back in Silsbee. I moved in with my fiancee in Beaumont and then we moved to our current apartment in Lewisville, Texas. None of these places has even come close to the feeling of home' like my home' growing up. Why is that and why can't I have that feeling back?

While I was married, our little two story house we were renting came kinda close, but there were some places in the house that never felt like ours', you know? My friends' houses were just that...theirs, so those weren't home, either. My fiancee's house was hers, too, but I thought things would be different once we moved into this apartment. I thought the apartment would start to feel like home, too. It isn't really, though. As weird as it sounds, it still feels like it's hers. I couldn't imagine being anywhere that's not with my fiancee and her kids. We are a family and one day soon, hopefully real soon, we'll be married.

So, what's the deal? Is it the fact that we are living in an apartment complex, with so many people coming and going around us and the fact that we don't own it, that makes it not feel like home? Or is it the absence of that little legal document saying we're married? Or is it the fact that she is the one working while I sit at home and twiddle my thumbs watching the kids and writing my poetry and stories?

Maybe we aren't meant to feel that sense of home' after we have grown up. Maybe that whole feeling that this place is ours and it's safe, nurturing, peaceful, reassuring, and solid is just so much leftover childhood memories. I go back to the house in Silsbee and only the 5 acres where the house is has trees because my mother had to sell the rest of the timber to make ends meet. The lake that used to be in front of the house is gone because the dam broke and drained it. It doesn't feel like home anymore, either. Sure, the house feels like home....until you walk outside and realize that home' is gone...clear-cut and wind-rowed. I want that feeling back again, dammit! How can I get that feeling back again? I feel naked without it....

Learn more about this author, Billy Mitchell.
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