Playing today with the idea of home. After reading some lovely words on the subject by a particularly interesting person, with a particularly interesting view on the subject; I find myself stuck on the idea. I call this home. I call 288 home on the east side of Costa Mesa. I still call Minneapolis home. Can I be at home both here and there? Is home where you sleep at night, or where you send your mail? Is home where you came from, that one place you could always go back to find that feeling? Months, years, days go by and I still feel at home there, but is home not here? Someone told me today it was just the place we miss. I told him quickly and without thinking that, “no, it’s the people that make the place that we miss.” But if I moved all those people that I love so much out here to sunny California, would it make this more of my home, and there less of my home? Is home a place? Is home people? Or is home just a feeling? I’m never sure when it’s missing, but I always seem to know when I have it. If I keep moving will I just collect more places to call home? So, riddle me this… how can I miss home so terribly when I am at the same time, already home?
Published by Erin Rose Belair
I am multi-genre writer specializing in travel, ad-copy, and nonfiction prose. A recent graduate with my MFA I am spending my new found time rambling around the world, practicing yoga, and searching for the best salad ever. View all posts by Erin Rose Belair