How far do you live from home?
By that, I don’t mean the place where you sleep at night. I mean the place where you grew up and/or where your parents still live (those aren’t always the same place).
I went to see my mom this weekend. First time going to her house since Memorial Day. We had a blast, laughing and cracking up and frolicking with her many dogs. And when I woke up Sunday morning about 5 or so and couldn’t get back to sleep because 1) I ate too much and felt pukey and 2) I was freezing and 3) I just felt sad and bad for some reason, I could go in her room and lay down with her, and know that if I did have to throw up (which I was really afraid of), she’d be there. After a bit, things settled down and I went back to my old room to sleep.
But yet it isn’t home. I was still ready to get back to my apartment and my cats Sunday. For a variety of reasons, I can’t ever again see myself living in the town where I grew up. That chapter’s already been written and filed away, though I do take it off the shelf every now and again to look over.
When I was near the end of my college career, I came home one weekend and felt sad and anxious, and did not know why. Finally I figured that while this was my hometown, it wasn’t home anymore.
In the larger, existential sense, I don’t know where my home is. I know where it is now, but I know this isn’t it in the long run. I know where it used to be but is no more. Cue the Nelly Furtado and U2 songs.
What’s home for you? Where has it been, and where is it now? Are you like my brother, unable to go “home” this Christmas because you can’t afford a plane ticket? Or are you like me, just a drive away?