The Usual Suspects

In a month, I will be going home again. For 6 hours. Then going to South Carolina to see my brother become a Marine. Then back to Florida and finally back to NYC. This is the longest both my brother and myself have gone without seeing our parents. After 7 months out of Florida and the 5th year out of Tampa, I am finally learning that home means many things. It's true we all fit into a role designed well in advance when we return to our parents' homes. I wonder what my role must look like to those around me. I'm certainly not the perfect child. Nor am I out of favor with anyone. (Hence my willingness to sit in a car for 12 hours with my father.) Still, it leads me to wonder about the things I will be thankful to leave behind when I get back on my plane bound for JFK. What will I realize I miss the most? Maybe it will be the sunsets. Most likely, it will be the car rides, sweet tea and not having to pay for my meals. Thankfully, my father and I share one thing in common when road tripping: Mini-Bar at the hotel.