My parents, native Virginians, raised my siblings and me in Tennessee. Every summer we’d pile in the van and make the 12-hour haul to our family lakehouse in Virginia and up to my grandparents’ home on the Chesapeake Bay. It was during these trips that we would all get our fill of fresh seafood for the year. Crab still tastes like endless afternoons of Scrabble on the back porch and running through prickly grass down to the dock. Now a resident of Alabama, when I find myself getting homesick I don’t turn to Tennessee. I go straight to summers on the water.