Lately, for some reason, I’ve been especially nostalgic for my home state of New Jersey. Maybe it’s the news coverage and all the dire forecasts of the meterologists that have that state, and many others, under warnings for a storm of historic proportions currently spreading across the nation and set to paralyze normal life this weekend and beyond. 

I’ve heard from some widowed friends up there who, although have seen their share of major storms, now face them without the comfort and support a their significant other. These are the times that just serve to accenuate the aloness of this loss. I hope you all can maintain a safe and warm haven. 

I have to say that I truly don’t miss those winters and I appreciate that although temperatures will dip below normal here in northern Florida, and even go below freezing for a few nights next week, life will generally go on as scheduled.

When Rich and I were first married, I moved an hour south to the Jersey Shore from my hometown of Hackensack. Sometimes that region escapes the storms, but not all the time. Recently a photo of Rich, and our beloved dog Teddy, taken during the blizzard of January 2016 showed up in my Facebook Feed. He looked miserable and it wasn’t too long after that we made plans to leave Jersey for good, although we’d enjoyed our lives there.

We chose Georgia, although at the time we were scouting areas of Northeast Florida. After listening to me talk about what I wanted in a home and community, a bartending friend, also from NJ, sent Rich and I to a subdivision in St. Marys, a town Rich and I had visited a few times.

We were at that time vacationing in a northern beach town in Florida just 30 minutes away. While visiting that quaint riverfront Georgia town Rich and I, with Teddy in tow, happened to walk past a realtor’s office. A young woman just inside the door smiled and said hello. “I’m going to go talk to that girl,” Rich said, a very Rich thing to do! Within moments, Teddy and I were summoned in and we found ourselves discussing that neighborhood that had been suggestd to us.

A dialogue began and a relationship formed. We flew back down about six months later to tour homes. We made a few bids, but nothing worked out. Returning home, however, a new listing caught our eye and with the help of that young realtor, we made an offer that was accepted.

Rich would have nearly two good years there. He did his best to adjust, but I know he still missed his homestate. He was a Jersey Boy through and through. But, he didn’t miss winter.

Within two years, with the loss of my elderly parents who’d also joined me in Georgia, I found myself migrating two hours south to rural Old Florida. I love my home here, and even purchased another sweet home on a canal leading to the beautiful St. John’s River. My mom had taught me well.

Now, I come full bittersweet circle. My Georgia home is about to go up for sale, listed with the same realtor who sold it to us. No longer physically tethered to that location, I find myself scoping listings a few hours south of here just as I did two years ago. I won’t be giving up this special place in northern Florida, but in the wake of loss, I’ve become restless. Just yesterday I found an Airbnb listing that will allow four dogs! 

I’ve had my hometown experiences, and they will always be with me. Sometimes, however, I imagine life up in my childhood town of Hackensack. If I lived there now, what would it feel like? I’ve lost six major family members who comprised my fondest memories there. Would returning there fill me with comfort or just increase my sense of loss? Would life at the Jersey shore feel empty without Rich? My favorite memories of 2025 were my visits to both places.

I sometimes imagine a scenario where we pack up our belongings and rent a home for one week as we nomadically move across the United States. I could cheat by excluding the states where I’ve spent considerable amounts of time during my lifetime. Except for New Jersey. There is nothing more special to me than summertime at the Jersey Shore. 

Stay safe everyone and survive yet another storm. Dream of warmer times and if possible, new horizons, if only in your hearts and minds.