In spite of all the fun I'm poking at Van Buren, Maine, I really do think of it as home. I don't know, maybe it's just that everyone feels some sort of connection to the place where they were born, no matter who they are (Asian American) and what they end up being later in life (anime junkie). But there are times in my life, especially the dark, dreary times where periods of happiness are few and far between (such as when I'm waiting for the #$%@$ N Judah), when I like to remember where I came from.

I can honestly say that the last summer I lived at home (after graduation) was one of the happiest times of my life (past the first month, anyway, after mom got used to a having a kid at home again). I got to live in my old bedroom, and see the same old silver maple tree when I woke up in the morning. I went hiking around the lake a few times, and actually lived to see my dad renovating our old dilapidated summer home there (although, I can't believe he asked his secretary to pick the curtains and stuff, and not me!). I saw another moose. I couldn't get over how beautiful the countryside was, with the rolling hills and quiet farmsteads and clouds floating far in the distance. I went to the library where I'd spent so many childhood hours and had a chat with the librarian, Mrs. Roy. Several people in town recognized me (well okay, some of them couldn't remember which of the Chan girls I was) and asked how I was doing.

Maybe the best part was my parents. They are so funny. My dad has somehow developed a sweet tooth. I discovered a hidden cache of peanut butter cups that belonged to him. He likes to go shopping now. My mom loves gardening in the yard, and she was out there nearly every day planting or weeding this and that. Their lives seemed so relaxed that summer, and I felt myself drifting into that mode, too. I loved watching CNN with my dad as the summer breeze slipped in through the windows. I loved sitting in the living room with the late afternoon sun warming the woodwork of our old house. But it was just for the summer. I made my decision to get on with my life when the leaves were just beginning to turn. Everything they say about the splendor of a New England autumn...it's true.

I know that if I went home to stay, I most likely wouldn't fit in (what? No broadband?), but it'll always be a fond memory I will recall when I need to remember that there exists somewhere in the world Mr. Rossignol's apple orchard (oh wait, it's been cut down to make room for a gas station); the playground at Kindle School where I had so much fun playing tag (no, actually, that's been closed down too); Dayton's Restaurant where my friends and I had all those poutines (hmm...Dayton sold it and left town, though) ...
Er...well anyway.