Going home this Thanksgiving break is the first time I've been home in eleven months and the first Thanksgiving I've been home for in five years. Spending this much time away from the place I grew up has made me think what home really means to me. Home for me is long drives on back roads, early morning Dunkin Donuts runs, crackling fires, and living with a gentle kind of ease. While home is all the people, places, and things that remind me of where I grew up and where I'm from, it is a mindset as well. As you grow up you have a home and then you go out into the world and make your own home. You create that feeling of whatever home means to you and bring it wherever you live. I have felt at home on the other side of U.S. , in other peoples homes, and on the other side of the world. To me being home feels relaxed, comforting, warm, inviting, and stable. I think in order for a place to feel like home you need some type of community, a space to truely call and make your own, and to be learning, growing, and experiencing new things. For me this is what has made foriegn places feel like home.
When you realize there is a difference between having a home and creating a home, I think this is huge. You can carry your home with you wherever you go. You can carry that feeling of coming home with you, packing it away in your mind to get at baggage claim when you land in
wherever you are travelling. Packing that feeling of coming home to hug your parents right next to sitting by your own fireplace. Packing sleeping in your own bed in the same bag as rummaging through your own familiar pantry. You carry your home and family with you wherever you go.