Mobile Home

I was asked recently what I considered home to be. And almost as if I had rehearsed it I said that "home was where I felt had shaped me into who I am and where I will always feel welcomed and at peace." For much of my life even if the actual roof over my head wasn't there I considered Florida my home.

However, over the past months and arguably year, I have realized that home does not have to be a singular place. I now know I have many homes. I have a home in Orlando, FL, I have one in Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, Ada, Ohio, Troy, Michigan, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, Detroit, Michigan Redondo Beach, California. Just to name a few.

Home has many definitions and synonyms, household, dwelling, condominium. The definition that should be focused on, A familiar or usual setting, a congenial environment sometimes gets lost.  Home can be where ever it is needed.

The places I stated above are not places I have lived, some of them are places I have never even been. But what I do know, is that in each city I have people who care about me. Home is not a structure not a place. Home is a people.



Over the past week, I have seen and spent time with family I had not seen in months. And it was back in the state I considered home. But, that wasn't what made this vacation so important or enjoyable to me. Being surrounded by the people you care about is what makes our lives and our time so worthwhile.

I watched as my parents, aunts, and uncles journeyed down memory lane with life long friends sharing stories that will stand forever. And while these friends and stories originated in central portions of Florida the tales would be told and the laughs would be shared if the meeting was taking place in a frozen tundra.

In life we all face hardships and struggles, we also reach new heights and joys. We do not rush to a building to share in those, we run to a people. We run to those we care about and that we know care about us.

So my question is not, where is you home? but, who is your home?