What is home? The first home would have been around a fire or in a cave. Some people have many homes in their lives. It is a lovely noun, but so much more.
I was asked this week if I call Ohio or Oregon home. Now that is a tricky one. Home for me has always been Ohio, yet my house here in Oregon is my home. What is the difference? One is where I was born and raised. One is this place I reside. Each is equally important to me and each are my homes. This has become more home to me since my family is here and since I have lived most of my life here. Yet my heartstrings yearn for that Ohio home.
Recently, I read a piece stating that the home you were raised in is no longer home once all the loved ones are gone. It is only a place full of stuff. What made this a ‘home’ were the people who lived there together.
I did some research and came across this piece from The Smithsonian Magazine: “…our physical habitat is shaped by what you might call the magnetic property of home.” I like that. It is magnetic.
Home is also people. A magnetism to that place where you took root and those people who take you right back to Neff Road where memories lie on the edge of conversations. Those that take us home again and again. Ah, yes, friends and family and home.
I do have to admit that I was a little concerned wondering what I was going to do with two women from back ‘home’ who were coming to Portland. They were not people I knew. In fact, I was taking Janet Rhoades’ positive referral on these two. And, yes, she was completely right. For the last few days, we have been experiencing home. Jane Brown and Donna Stickley are pure delight. I’m not sure there was a moment when we needed to get acquainted. We shared home. In just a few days, we three have become best of friends, laughing and enjoying the company, and the sightseeing. Home. Not a building. Not a house back a lane. No, it has been in the joy of Jane and Donna in our lives.