Home

 

This morning I walked into my kitchen and felt an unusual attachment to a place. 

I lived in four different places before I started kindergarten and five more before I graduated from high school. After I was married we lived in nine places and since my divorce I've really ramped it up. I've lived in twelve different places!

I remember moving into our first home in Bloomington back in 1971 and thinking it only took six months to feel like home. Then I guess I forgot about that feeling. I've enjoyed living in all my homes, but not in any special way. Mostly they were just a place to be while other more important things were going on and often I have been on the lookout for something different.

Early today I walked out of my bedroom and into the kitchen to make coffee and when I looked around I had a strange satisfied feeling that felt unusual. Pausing I really took it all in, the furniture, the colors, the pictures on the wall and I finally realized what it was. 

This is my home! This is that place I've seen in movies where someone puts the kettle on and settles down for a cup of tea, or coffee in my case. This is that cottage in the woods I dreamed of in fairy tales even though it is on a city street. It feels cozy and safe and comfortable.

I am home.