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Sometimes home….is just a feeling.

November 29, 2009

With the holidays upon us, people always ask….’are you going home?’. My answer is never direct or easy.

The first definition in Webster’s dictionary for the word is ‘the place where one lives permanently, esp. as a member of a family or household’. While I won’t dispute that…..’home’ takes on a greater meaning for me.

My parents’ and grandparents’ houses that have been there for as long as I can remember, their arms around me when I walk through their doors, the cackling laughter of my friends when we’re hanging out and being stupid, our tears when we’re sad,  San Francisco which will always have my heart, the charming flat in Paris where I was able to lose and find myself all at the same time, the home that cradled me in Mountain View until I leapt wings wide and landed in New York where I currently reside but which will unlikely be able to keep its hold on me forever.

Home isn’t a house full of stuff, it’s family and friends, where you’ve been and where you’re going. It’s the feeling you get when you can walk through the door and let your guard down, exhale and feel safe, where you can be you and no one else…if only for short while.
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