For the kids that don't know what home means

Everyone who has lived in more than one place knows the concept of "home" can't be defined. I've called many places home over the years & the definition has changed each time. While sometimes it was associated with a person or the bed I'd layered with four different blankets, I learned it was easier to associate home with something intangible. A feeling that brought a sense of familiarity. Home became everything familiar: the burn on my tongue as I sipped tea hurriedly while running to catch the morning bus, it became the warmth from the towels I sat in for hours after a shower, it became the laughter that accompanied phone conversations with my mom or a distant best friend, it became the nostalgia from a childhood piece of candy. Once I started to think of home as a feeling, the definition was lost in translation. And so much easier to live with. Besides, I've found it does me more good not to be rooted to one place as I graduate from college and start to think of where I wanna be in the upcoming years. My last week of college, I helped a professor clean out his office as he neared retirement. We were both finishing up different stages of life and I couldn't help but wonder,

"Are you sad?" I asked, as I put another book in the moving boxes. He'd lived in this small town for about 20 years, he was leaving his home. "I'm so excited." He replied, with a surprising eagerness in his eyes. Like he couldn't wait another minute. Here's to that eagerness that I hope we all find within, & carry away from home. Or whatever that is anyway.

#Home