Going back really is impossible

I love New Orleans. It was where I was born, was educated, and worked for over 30 years before I moved. I moved ostensibly for the job but mostly for me...new territory...my territory...in a way I had to find myself because I was overshadowed by my brothers. Not that they were not wonderful, they were indeed. But my eldest brother was the head of his own family, and became a lawyer and worked with my father, the lawyer. And my elder brother was brilliant as a musician and arranger. I was a research associate with one of the leading biochemists in the nation. And I just didn't feel like putting up with letting anyone down, silly as that sounds. No one gave as much indication as we were competing, and I am not so sure we were. But I could just feel the need to be more "special" than either one of them, because my eldest brother finally did something with his life by becoming a lawyer, my elder brother was a disappointment because he never finished the pharmaceutical chemistry course he started, and I was a research associate working with primates, with the unspoken questions of, "what about a practice?" Leaving allowed me to strike out on my own, make my way, and finally bring me back to the land I love, Kentucky. For it was here that I first really felt at home, here that I felt people looked at me not for what I did, but for who I was...since then, living in North Carolina and South Carolina also gave me a very loving feeling...but never like Kentucky. I love New Orleans. But going back to live where I grew up...well, I believe I am home now.