Where is Home?
I know all the cute little sayings "Home is where your heart is," "Home is where you hang your hat," "Home is where the Army sends you." So on and so forth. But there is just a little part of me that was so spoiled to be raised in a very small perimeter with people that I have maintained close friendships with. It is weird to call that home now that I am a "grown up." I call it where I am from. Not really the same after you leave and go have a family of your own. We move so often that hanging the pictures on the wall has to happen in the first couple of weeks or else it is practically time to take them back down and patch the holes in the walls. I have spent 5 out of my 6 years of marriage in Germany. Somehow it still isn't home. I do like it and it is a great place to live and have a family and travel... but it still isn't really home. Maybe it is because we don't own a house, maybe it is because I am always planning for the next step, the next move. I have always loved the song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and thought that there must be some truth to the feeling it evokes. Why else would it sell millions of copies and be re-covered by dozens of artists? I have always had a longing to go to Hawaii. I know I am the whitest whitie but maybe I am a wahini at heart. The ocean has always played a big part in my life. Maybe the ocean is home? I feel like this is sounding like an episode of Bert and Ernie where Bert will be very logical and literal with the definition of home and Ernie will continue to ask "but what about ... Bert?" I'll keep pondering, feel free to chime in.