But planning this trip back has gotten me to thinking about what makes a place a home. The other day I was telling a colleague of mine that we were flying West this summer for a visit. They responded with, "Oh great! You're going home." It really made me pause. I realized I didn't think of it as home. I think of where I am right now as home.So of course in my usual fashion I began to step back and analyze what makes a home for me. Why doesn't it feel like I'm going home when I am returning to the place I grew up?
After much thought I have realized that I don't feel like I'm flying back home, because I am home. Right now. Here in Yarmouth. This is the place we have chosen to be our home for now. If I think of home, I think of the wood stove burning while we gather to watch a movie snuggled on the couch. I think of my woods out back and the stillness and peace they give me, even on the most challenging days. I think of the country roads that I love and the old wooden church that stands just down the street, it's steeple rising up through the trees to be seen from miles around. I think of the loons on the lake in summer and the owls in the forest at night. To me home isn't a place but a feeling. An inner peace of belonging.
So when I fly out west this summer, it will be with a happy heart. I will be excited to see all the loved ones we have missed. I can't wait to wrap my arms around my family and hug close the ones that ensured that even though we have a geographical distance, our relationships have grown to become the most cherished ones I hold dear. But when it comes time to step on that plane to once again head East, even though I will be sad, I know it is then that I will be going home.