Home by Ryan Ford

I grew up in a split family so I've always had two homes. My mother remarried when I was almost ten. My step-father was very religious and very strict. By the time I was a teenager we were butting heads on a regular basis. My real father was much more moderate and relaxed and had standards that were realistic. He was always the voice of reason while I was growing up. So even though Mom's house was where I lived, went to school, and had all my friends, my Dad's was always my escape. I could really relax and get away from all the stress of my step-dad there. When I graduated I spent months and years away from home while I was in the Army. The only time I felt alienated was when I'd miss family events. I missed the weddings of three of my sisters, the birth of my first three nephews and niece, and however many family BBQ's, graduations and birthday parties. I'd be home for a week or two from the Army and it would seem like I was just passing through again. I'd have to catch up on all I missed and be off to somewhere else. Now that I live in West Chester I try to go home to either Dad's or Mom's one afternoon every weekend. However, for the last year, the studio apartment I share with my girlfriend, Heidi, and our psychotic cat, Maggie, has become another home to me. I miss them and the life and friends I have here in WC when I'm away too long. I miss my Moms home cooking and working/hanging out with my Dad.