In the meantime...I spend my days trying to figure out where home is. For someone who has grown up all over the place - summers in Norway, switching back and forth from my parents houses from the time I was nine, camping for weeks when I was young - "home" really isn't a place. I have always wanted it to be. Wished for it to be. And I am confident that one day, hopefully soon, it will be.
Home...
a kitchen in NY where two dogs lick up every crumb and I know where to find the spoons and sippy cups
a voicemail from a sibling who just wanted to check in and say hi
conditioner from a sister so my hair can smell like hers
making another sister laugh in front of the fire on an Arizona patio
my dad kissing the top of my head
my brother strumming his guitar and singing about Staten Island
a wet, slobbery kiss from my over zealous five year old
a kitchen where there is always music playing, delicious new things baking, a smile, and a hug
my sentence being finished by someone who must have been a sister in another life
folding Bill's t-shirts (you must know how I feel about folding laundry by now...accompanied by the smell of my love...yeah, that's home, too)
the voice of my mother
the sweet breath of my sleeping baby warm on my cheek
the knowledge of cousins who I haven't seen in years love and miss me as much as I love and miss them
the sun setting on a lake...and the tree...where my heart is...looks on
my down comforter still warm with sleep
a buttered piece of toast with a slice of salami, havarti cheese, and a cucumber
HOME
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