Home is where the heart is. It may sound cliche' but it is absolutely true. My family was certainly proof that can't be denied. Home is not defined by a house or any other structure where you may happen to live.
In the 18 years that I lived at home, we lived in more different houses than I care to count. To be honest, I really can't tell you exactly how many because I'm not sure how many we lived in before I was old enough to remember. Let's just suffice to say that it was a lot. During my first 7 years we lived in 3 different towns and the rest were spent in the first town which is the one I consider my hometown. To give you just a slight idea of how frequently we moved - halfway through the second grade we moved to New Albany and moved back to Milltown the summer after third grade. In that one and a half years we lived in 3 houses. Many of our moves would be just down the street. Enough said.
I'm sure by now you are asking yourself why we moved around so much. Good question. It was never because we were vagrants or that we had to move for any logical reason. It was simply something my mom liked to do. She would no more than get one house fixed up perfectly until she would find another one she liked better. So, we packed up and moved.
Having said all this, I have to add that I had a wonderful childhood. It never occurred to me or any of us that we had any less of a home than kids who lived in the same house all their lives because we didn't. We were happy and loved and no matter how long we lived in a house mom and dad made it a home. Mom always fixed a home that was warm, cozy and welcoming. My friends always loved visiting at my house and did so quite often. Home for us was wherever the family was and we had the best home anyone could ask for.
Until next time...that's my view.