The Distance Between “Come Here” and “Live Here”

“There are three categories of people in the Tidewater,” a New York-born and bred woman told me in 2000 when I came to Virginia to speak at a writers’ conference. “There are the‘born heres,’ and they consider themselves special. Then there are the ‘come heres,’ the people who own or rent a summer place or who the locals aren’t sure will stick it out. When you pass muster and they believe you’re here for good, you’re a ‘live here.'”

I laughed. At that point in my life, I’d lived in six states and was fine with that lifestyle. “And where do you and your husband rank?” I asked.

The woman smiled. “We were ‘come heres’ when we came down in the summer and for the first three or four years we were here full time,” she said. “But they’ve started calling us ‘live heres.’ I love it.”

Now, I don’t live in the Tidewater. My home is in northern Virginia, the area some call “faux Virginia.” I’ve had the same address for close to seven years, longer than any other one place than since I left my parents’ home when I was eighteen. And I wonder, am I still a “come here” or am I now a “live here”?

I chose Arlington when I moved to the DC area because I had a friend who lives in western Virginia, and figured it’d be easier to get together. Then the time for that friendship passed. In the meantime, I fell in love–with the Old Dominion itself. From Arlington to Sandridge, from Petersburg to Charlottesville to Staunton to Winchester to Front Royal to Manassas. The scenery is beautiful; the people, charming and hospitable. But am I a “live here”? Me, with the rounded Midwestern “ohs” and the four ancestors who fought for the Union during the Civil War?

I freaked out recently when Irene passed through the area. It was my first hurricane, and she wasn’t much of one here. I felt embarrassed afterward; a “live here” would have taken it in stride (after stocking up on water and batteries), I thought.

But then I spent part of the past weekend in West Virginia (you know, that state that used to be part of Virginia and legend has it we didn’t much miss when it left). It’s a beautiful state and yet, when we crossed back into Virginia, it felt good–to be home. And that’s when I knew that no matter what others may think or the future may bring, for today, I am most definitely a “live here”–and grateful for the privilege.