My mom used to always say, “It’s nice to go somewhere, but it’s nice to come home.”
The term “home” has become an interesting concept for me over the past seven years. It can be elusive, undefined. And since I just spent a week at my original “home” – my birthplace – I’ve wondered, can a place called home be more than one physical location at any given moment?
Surprisingly, no matter how far you stray from your original home – it always holds a very special place in your heart. Never to be replaced.
I feel blessed to have heart-felt people in both locations that I refer to as home. Even while semi-stranded at the bus depot in my hometown, there are endless people I could call for a ride. And if you have support, you’re never home-less.
Home now = Sexy Hubby and The Junior. Oh, and Old Man Dutchie.
Rocky Mountain High, Montana.