I know people think our life is crazy — moving every 2 years (or less) all over the country (and now, the world). But on the positive side, we’ve come to find that home is wherever we are. It’s about the people we’re with, not our geographic location on the planet.
That’s how we could be at home in a city we’ve never been before — with family, we’re home. It’s how we could meet up with friends I haven’t seen since High School — picking up right where we left off. If it weren’t for the new wrinkles and the bunch of kids added to the group, I would have thought we were right back in Oakland. It’s how we could pop in on friends we haven’t seen in several years and we were received with tight squeezes and laughs and exclamations of how tall everyone has gotten and we were home again in the forest.
The gift is I can’t hold any location too tightly because it is going to slip through my fingers too quickly no matter what I do. My links to places in time become the people I meet and those relationships that last beyond our short time together. And while I’m loving returning to all of these “homes,” I’m already missing the newest links in the chain, those I have come to love while living in Bahrain. Soon enough we’ll be back in the heat, sweating it out together on our desert island, creating a new “home” that will last long after we’ve left the island.