I went home to Boston last Tuesday for the first time in almost a year. I’ve never, ever been away from home for that long. I was in Ireland for Christmas and in Michigan in May, so I’ve seen my family a lot, but the last time I was in Boston was in July of last year.

This was the first trip where I finally felt like I had a handle on the “being a person who lives away from home” thing. I saw friends from high school (and even before), spent a lot of time with my visiting grandparents, and had some big talks with family. It was hot, more humid than I could remember it being, and I realize that I think that’s because I’ve finally adapted to Southern California. But I remembered that you can, in fact, go home again, and I had a great time doing it.