Mountainside, NJ

While a comparison to Iowa may not seem a compliment to some, for me, it is. Mountainside is for my children what Iowa was for me. It's where their father grew up. I experienced that sense of history and place only on my father's side, and because of that, Iowa is what I think of when I think of my own roots. It's the same for my children - the only place with history they will know is the one where Brian was raised.

But it's more than that. It's what we do while we're there that seems so familar. Sitting on folding chairs watching the kids play in the driveway, taking a walk to the playground, kids playing with their dad's old toys (check out that truck!), and eating homemade treats that Nana (or in the case of donuts and ice cream, Grandpop) shares - all of these things remind me of Iowa. Not to mention the corn cob pipe, although, in my memory, it was my grandfather smoking, not a granchild!

Granted, Mountainside is within 30 minutes of NYC, not exactly bucolic, but that's exactly what makes it so special. You wouldn't know the city was anywhere near this place, and from where I stand, that's quite a good thing.