I’m returning to the South, and my Mom and daughter are a significant part of the reason.

I left my hometown in North Carolina nearly 30 years ago, though my first stop on the journey to advance my career as a journalist was only 90 miles away, in the same state. Then, 20 years ago I moved “North,” to the Washington, D.C. area. Technically, the area is below the Mason-Dixon line, but it is as far north as I’ve ever wanted to live, considering my aversion to very cold weather, snow and ice. I bought my first real winter coat when I arrived and thought I wouldn’t survive my first winter.

My daughter just graduated from middle school (middle school means D.R.A.M.A., she says) and is about to step into the whirlwind of high school—midterm exams, football games, school clubs, boyfriends, the SAT. I’ve been concerned about discipline issues at the public high school she would attend in our school district, and when she graduates, I want her to be able to choose among the many colleges in North Carolina with eligibility for in-state tuition.

My mother reluctantly gave up driving last year because of health reasons. She doesn’t get out every day the way she used to and relies on my sisters to shuttle her to see doctors, to the grocery store, to visit friends. She’s able to live alone in the house she and my father bought nearly 50 years ago, but needs more help with housekeeping and cooking and managing the home. We’ve always been a close family so I’ve visited often over the years, at least every three months or so, and I talk to my Mom regularly on the telephone. But I want to be able to just drop by on Sunday afternoons to prepare dinner, to accompany her on doctor visits and give her pedicures more often.

Usually, the needs of my daughter and my mom are a virtual juggling act. But not in this case. Once I decided to accept an early retirement offer from The Washington Post, I knew I would return to my Southern roots. My daughter gets a new high school. I’ll be able to spend more time with my Mom.

There’s one twist, though. I’m not going back to my hometown. I’ll be 90 miles away, a lot closer to the beach.

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