If I could live anywhere in the world, my first answer would not be a country, a city, a mountain, a beach or a zip code.
It would be Daryl.
Honestly, it’s not where. It’s who.
That may sound like the kind of answer a husband is supposed to give, but I mean it. I have learned that a place is only as good as the life you get to live there and the person beside you while you live it. I could be in one of the most beautiful places on earth and still feel misplaced if I were not sharing it with the woman I love.
Home has never really been about scenery first. It is about faces. It is about the person sitting across the table from you in the morning. It is about the hand you reach for in the car. It is about the one who knows your stories, your habits, your dreams, your aggravations and your favorite songs. It is about the person who makes an ordinary grocery-store run feel like part of a life instead of an errand.
So if I could live anywhere, I would start there, with Daryl.
But life is not only marriage. It is family, too. I also would want to be close enough to my daughter and grandchildren to be part of their lives in a real way. Not just pictures, quick updates or “we need to get together soon” conversations that keep getting pushed down the calendar.
I want the chance to be present. I want to see ballgames, school programs, birthday candles, Saturday lunches and ordinary afternoons that do not look like much at the time but become the memories everyone keeps. I want my grandchildren to know me as more than a face on a phone. I want them to know my voice, my laugh, my stories and probably a few of my bad jokes.
That matters.
And then there is Daryl’s family. They are very important to her, which means they are important to me. Love does not get to draw a circle around only the people who matter to me. When you marry someone, your map changes. Their people become part of your geography. Their roots matter. Their attachments matter. Their need for nearness matters.
That is one reason the answer is not as simple as naming the prettiest place I can imagine.
There are plenty of beautiful places in the world. I could dream up a cottage in the English countryside, a cabin in the mountains, a villa in Italy, a house by a lake or a place near the ocean where every sunset looks like a postcard. Those would all be wonderful.
But beauty without belonging would get lonely.
The older I get, the more I realize that “anywhere in the world” is not really about escape. It is about the life you would choose if you had the freedom to choose it carefully. And for me, that life would need to keep the people I love within reach.
That said, Tennessee has been working on me.
We have come to love that part of the world, especially the Chattanooga area. There is something about it that feels right. The mountains. The river. The downtown. The restaurants. The old buildings. The views. The feeling that you can have a little city, a little history and a lot of natural beauty all in one place.
Chattanooga has a way of making you look around and think, “I could live here.” And I think I could. Actually, I think we could.
A place like Chattanooga would be close to perfect. It would put us near a city we enjoy, in a part of the country that has already started to feel special to us. It would give us access to the things we like without feeling overwhelming. It has enough going on to stay interesting, but it still feels close to the mountains, close to quiet, close to places where you can breathe.
But then there is Cleveland, Tennessee.
Cleveland might make even more practical sense. It is close enough to Chattanooga to enjoy all the benefits, but the economics would probably be better. That matters, too. Dreaming is fun, but property taxes, grocery bills, insurance, gas prices and home prices have a way of joining the conversation whether you invite them or not.
A dream that destroys your budget is not much of a dream.
So if we were being wise and realistic, Cleveland might be the better answer. Close to Chattanooga. Close to beauty. Close to the places we have enjoyed. More manageable. More practical. Maybe more possible.
And possible matters.
But if money were no object?
Then I can see it.
A place on top of Lookout Mountain.
Not necessarily something ridiculous or showy. I do not need a mansion with rooms I would forget to enter. But a home with a view? A porch? A place where the morning coffee comes with Chattanooga spread out below? Yes. I could live with that.
I can imagine standing there early in the morning, looking down over the city while the day is still waking up. I can imagine the lights at night. I can imagine Daryl beside me. I can imagine music playing somewhere inside the house. Probably Toto. Maybe Boz Scaggs. Maybe something we could dance to in the kitchen.
That would be pretty close to perfect.
But even then, the mountain would not be the point. The view would be beautiful, but the view would not make it home. Daryl would. Family would. The people within reach would.
That is what I have learned about home. It can have mountains or palm trees, rivers or beaches, old brick buildings or quiet roads. It can be in Florida, Tennessee or somewhere I have not even imagined yet. The place matters, of course. I would be lying if I said it did not.
But the people matter more.
So if I could live anywhere in the world, I suppose my dream answer would be a home near Chattanooga, maybe Cleveland if wisdom and economics get a vote, or Lookout Mountain if the money fairy ever shows up and starts writing checks.
But my real answer is simpler than that. I want to live wherever I can love my wife well, stay close to my family and build a life that feels rooted, grateful and whole.
Anywhere in the world? Give me Daryl. Give me family close enough to hug. Give me a porch, a view if I can get one, coffee in the morning and people I love nearby.
That would be enough.
That would be home.
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Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.
