It’s good to be home, even though we’ll only be able to enjoy this fabulous house for another few short days. Here’s a summary of the past two and a half weeks:

• 4,043 miles
• 16 states
• One Canadian province
• 1,448 photographs (I’ll probably keep around 450)
• One wedding in Michigan (our son, Andrew, to the lovely Alicia Pashby)
• One baptism in Connecticut (our brand-new granddaughter, Rebekah Mae)
• Lots of $$$$$$$$$$$$$
• Tons of new – and very beautiful – memories

ALEXANDERS: Wednesday started with a visit to the ancestral Alexander home. Or, more properly, “The Rock House” built by Hezekiah Alexander just north of Charlotte in 1774.

Hezekiah, to the best of our knowledge, was close kin (possibly a brother) to Rebekah’s direct Alexander descendant. The Alexanders came from Scotland, via Ulster, in the late 1600’s, migrating into North Carolina from Maryland.

Hezekiah was one of the signers of the 1775 Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence, he helped frame the North Carolina constitution, he was a faithful member of the local Presbyterian church, he was a magistrate, and he served as a trustee of Queens College.

Rebekah’s progenitor, on the other hand, was less – shall we say – genteel; those Alexanders we more rustic, they lived in the hills, and they fought like banshees against the British at Kings Mountain. But not to suggest that Hezekiah was tame; in fact, the symbol of the hornet was attached to the illustrious Alexander’s house, representative of “The Hornets Nest” of rebellious sentiment that led to documents such as the Mecklenburg Declaration.

Regardless, it was very cool to see the Hezekiah house, and we imagined what it would be like to meet those feisty Alexanders of yore. In a sense, the experience spoke to us of our upcoming move to North Carolina as being somewhat of a homecoming.

CONCLUSION: Late that same day, driving I-95 through the south of Georgia, Rebekah and I had the sudden realization that no vacation should conclude with dinner at another Cracker Barrel (no offense, CB, we really love your fried okra). So we made a sharp left, crossed the bridge from Brunswick to St. Simon’s Island, ditched the RAV-4, and walked hand-in-hand in the evening breeze in search of good food.

That’s when we found a classic island seafood restaurant, grabbed an outside table on the sidewalk, and feasted on shrimp, oysters, grouper, and hushpuppies. We took our time, savoring one another’s company; because after almost 34 years of being married, there are still few things that come close to sharing dinner together at a beach-side venue, leaning over the table, and kissing like we mean it – because we still do, we really, really do.

HOME: And so we rolled on home to Laurel Oak Drive in Valrico, at least home for a few more days. But the point is that home is exactly where Rebekah is, home is where we are together. Nothing makes that any clearer than 4,043 miles on the road and 16 states (plus one province). Or a one-bedroom apartment. Or our new address (which I promise I’ll share once the closing is all wrapped up).

Home is where the heart is; and my heart is with Rebekah – DEREK