They say you can’t go home again. As military wives we have all spent an ample amount of time away from the place we consider home. For some of us “home” might not be the same place we grew up in. For others “home” is the same town and even house where they spent their childhood. Everyone has their definition of “home.” Everyone has different feelings when the time comes to visit home. Some are completely excited, and some might find themselves a little nervous. The question is; can you ever really go home again?
I grew up in a small town in the foothills of Northern California. It is the kind of town where pretty much everybody knows everybody and your business is everybody else’s business. There is no way to do anything without someone knowing about it. My husband grew up in this same small town and his family is still there. My family, however, has long since migrated North to the Oregon Coast (part of them opted to head south to Texas instead). But, the majority of my family are now living very happily in Oregon. This means for me, that the small town in California is no longer really home. The little town on the Oregon Coast where my family is at is now is where I consider home. Overall, my husband still considers going to visit his parents in California “going home.” But, somehow that small town just doesn’t bring about the same homey feelings it once did. When we go back, we almost feel like strangers in our own hometown. It’s not that a lot has changed, not much does there, we have lived away from there for so long though, it feels like any other town we would take a week to go visit.
Whether it is my family that feels like home to me, or that we recently lived on the Oregon Coast, as a trip “home” gets closer for me I feel nothing but excitement. I feel like I am going home. I only lived in Oregon for four years, but for me it feels more like home than California ever has in the past decade since I left it. I believe the reason for that could be that for me “home” is my family. Even in Texas, where I have never lived, feels homey to me. When I go down there I feel just as much at home as I do in Oregon, because that is where my dad is. Oregon holds my mom, my sister, my nieces and nephews, while Texas has my dad. For me the definition of home is family. Wherever they are, I believe will feel like home to me.
How do you define home? What feelings do you get right before you take a trip back home? Do you believe we can ever really go home again? I think everyone would answer those questions differently. And in the end “home” is something different for each person. Is home a place or is it people?