I love how many interpretations there are for the word home. Some consider it to be a place, others a feeling, to some it is a person. How can such a small word mean so many different things?
I think sometimes I get ‘home’ confused with ‘where one is from.‘ I do not know where I am from. I am from a little bit of everywhere. Not one specific place. No single location. But I have no doubts that I am home. At the end of the day, everyone will be here together. Talking about our days. Petting the dog. Eating dinner. Tripping over each other.
I may not know where I am from, and I may have absolutely no idea where I am going, but I do know that I am right where I am meant to be. This is where my heart is. This is home.