For lack of a better term, I’m going home tomorrow.
Home, for me, as a former military brat and probably a future itinerant, is wherever I am at the time. No more, no less.
But, anyway, I’m going to South Mississippi, where my dad’s famiy has roots. Dad’s family is big: he has 52 first cousins on his dad’s side alone. We’ll be with his mother’s family for part of the time, which will be tough; Aunt Agnes finally passed on recently. I wish I’d gotten to see her last Thanksgiving, but that was spent in Tennessee, thankful most of all that Mom was still alive and with us.
I’ll board with my brother, which is always fun … for a while. We know we should never live together long term, but for a few days, we’re okay. 🙂 I’ll get to see my uncle and his new wife … #4 … whom he’s been married to since February [?], yet I’ve never met her, nor, I think do I even know her name.
See what I mean? It’s home, of sorts. The people are familiar, but they change. Those closest remain the most steadfast in not changing. Perhaps that’s home … ?