Something that has become indelibly clear to me over the past three years is that home is not a where or a what, but a who . . . who you belong with and who you belong to.
I had a moment this weekend, watching my boys run through the sprinkler at a friend’s barbecue, in which I was reminded of all the places I belong and all the people that make me feel home, and I realized how wealthy that makes me in the things that really matter in life.
Home is where you belong – and there’s nothing in the world that can take away the contentment and joy it brings to be home when you get there.