Home is an elusive place. We often limit our definition of home as a space or a structure. Home is truly where the heart resides. Home lives in our connection to other people. Being a week away from my sons, I was homesick. I was missing my bed and my pillows. I missed the ease of getting about town. I missed my own coffee, although San Francisco has some mighty fine coffee. But more than anything, I missed the proximity of my children. They come back to me on Wednesday, our regular schedule, but I had to go see them today. I had to touch them and hug them and smell them. They are my home. They are my everything. My heart resides with them. If I never have a home again….a house….a building with an address and a deed with my name on it….I will never feel homeless or displaced because my home is where I am with my sons.

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