Even before I opened my eyes, I knew.
Yes, being back in my old home territory meant I knew, even before I opened my eyes in the morning, that it was foggy outside—salty, gauzy, clammy, foggy.
Snuggled under blankets, I awoke to fog horns signaling back and forth, and I knew that up and down the Sound, ships were navigating with care.
Being home again meant I knew which fog horn belonged to the ferry.
For eleven years now I have lived inland, far from fog horns, but I have heard them nevertheless—or so I thought. Many a time I’ve heard a train horn wail in the distance and somewhere deep in the back corner of my mind I’ve assumed it was a fog horn—only to “come to” a few seconds later and realize I was hearing a train. To paraphrase the old saying, “You can take the girl from the sea, but you can’t take the sea from the girl.”
What about you? Have you had similar home-related experiences? How can you paraphrase this original old proverb to describe your life? “You can take a boy out of the country but you can’t take the country out of a boy.” (1938, “B. Baer” in Baer and Major)
Search for a place to use that in your memoir. Your readers will enjoy it. They'll fell they know you better.