Defining home simplifies with time or is it wisdom? The cliche is that home is where the heart resides. The implication is that home lies within someone else, only exists in tandem. And yet, I think about home this holiday season. The first Christmas post marriage when my sons are not with me but I am not alone. All these years, every other year, Christmas – at least the secular gift giving portion of Christmas – gets delayed until The Boys come home. And yet, this year, I wasn’t alone. I was again part of a pair, in tandem and it felt lovely. To celebrate real Christmas, the Savior’s birth with another person with whom I believe and have faith. To stand among like-minded folks – “his people” – and sing and read the story of the Magi and the birth of Jesus. And to break bread and to give our own gifts.

And I wasn’t alone. Pascal said, “All men’s miseries stem from not being able to sit quietly in a room.” And this is true. Better yet, to sit quietly in a room with another person. It is lovely and safe and a true gift. I do not mind being alone. I do many things alone. I admit to being quite solitary and introverted. I need time and solitude to recharge. Home for me can be reading a book, sewing a quilt, baking bread, weeding a garden or walking in the woods or along a beach. I have made myself a home. But I relish the arrival of another with whom I call home and share in that quiet space.

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