Maybe you've noticed, or probably at least heard or read my poem by the same title. Home.

We (my family and I) have just come back from a trip to California. If you're reading this, you probably know that already. You probably also know most of the chaotic details of it, but it's all going into one piece, here.

I guess I should first state the reason for the trip. My grandmother died on September 13th. Save your sympathy. It may sound cold, but her death means little to me. She was never a grandmother to me, only a stressor in my mom's life, and mine in turn. And she has continued to cause distress to my mom after her death.

Up until several days before we left, our plan had been to stay at my grandmother's house. Once we received a copy of her trust, my aunt (who is also the trustee) blew that plan to hell. She claimed the attorneys "recommended" that my family not stay in the house. We all know the decision was ultimately my aunt's, but she refused us. We also found in the copy of the trust, that my grandmother had disinherited my mother. Another blow, yet it seemed to hurt her even more upon realizing that her disinheritance included me. We later found out that there had been a CD created for me for a sum of money, about 9 years ago. It was not listed in the trust, but exists nonetheless.

So our plans changed. Reservations were made in Napa, the town my grandmother lived in, and Vacaville, the town we previously lived in. Reservations were also made in Oregon, for the drive down and back. The next day, the hotel in Napa was cancelled, and a different hotel in Vacaville chosen. My aunt was left to believe we were staying with a friend in the Capay Valley.

Nothing was packed until the day before we left. Chaotic, you think? Completely. Everything got finished, though, and we left early the following morning (Wednesday). Pictures were taken during the drive, which I hope to post here soon, but was otherwise uneventful. Until we reached the outskirts of Vacaville. The sight of the hills, and even the flat land with the hills out in the distance... They were so beautiful, to me. Everything reminded me of home. I felt like I had come home. Throughout the rest of the trip, I avoided the thought of leaving. I comtemplated many times over how I might be able to avoid returning to Washington. Yet my parents complained the whole time, about the traffic, the weather (which I loved), the towns themselves. It irritated me immensely.

Anyway. Wednesday and Thursday were spent driving down. Friday we drove around Napa and the surrounding area, visiting friends of my parents. Besides taking a couple hundred pictures (few of which turned out well, sadly), most of the day was pretty boring. Until I had the pleasure of being reacquainted with someone I have met few times, but always gotten along well with. He is the son of two of my parents friends, and we seemed to have quite a lot in common. We talked most of the time our parents were talking. This improved the day for me quite a lot, and I hope to keep in contact with him.

Saturday, on the other hand, was utter hell, with no upside besides the much-appreciated text messages from my amazing friends. If you're reading this, thank you again. The day was spent with my aunt and her fiancee, at my grandmother's house. Every other comment seemed to be an insult to my mom or myself, even my dad. Her fiancee is a pleasant man, though I do hope he comes to his senses before it's too late. Little more needs to be said about this. Only a re-statement that the day sucked.

Sunday was freaking amazing. We went out to where my old horseback riding teacher lives. Some of the horses I knew there aren't there right now, but the ones that are were unbelievable. I also got to ride a horse I had never ridden before, which was also great.

Monday was also boring, my parents visiting more friends around Vacaville. Not much to say, really... I think I spent most of the time dreading leaving the next day.

Tuesday we left. I fought tears most of the day and tried to sleep, something I had refused to do on the way down. Wednesday we arrived home. But this is not my home. I'm cold, maybe mostly from the weather but I believe from something more too. California is my home. Vacaville is my home. I'm so glad I have friends in that state, and that my boyfriend is so close to my home town.

My heart is in California. And all I can think now is "Less than 8 months until I return." Those of you who know me will understand what I mean. Goodnight.