Home...

They say you can never go home again.

I say it depends on what you consider "home" to be.

I never had a physical home growing up. We moved a lot. Until we moved into this house in Castle Rock I had never lived anywhere longer than about a year and half.

Now...after nine years...I love our house. Not because it is huge or fancy or new. I love it because it is comfortable, because it holds lots of memories, because it has character, because the yard is big enough for all of our friends, because I can sit on my bed look out the window and see the sun set over the mountains.

But this is not my home.

Instead I choose to cling to another cliche'...."Home is where the heart is."...and my home is with my family.

My home is my husband...my children...and even though she lives in Washington State...my home is my mom.

Even though I am almost 42 my mom is still my mom. It doesn't matter how old I am,where she lives, how often we get to see each other, whether we agree or disagree or how long I have been married...my mother is still HOME.

It has nothing to do with how domestic she is...because she isn't really. It has nothing to do with the amount of kisses she showered me with as a child...because quite honestly I don't remember a lot of them, although I am sure there must have b een. And it has nothing to do with those "heart to heart" talks that at seem to be the centerpiece of so many mother daughter movies...because although we talk A LOT...the things we discuss aren't going to change the world.

My mother is HOME for the same simple reason my husband and children are. It is because of the peace that their love bestows upon my weary heart.

At the end of a long day, when the world and all in it conspires against me....the knowledge that they are there to "shelter" me is just as good...and probably better...than a comfortable chair, well worn wood floors, a big stone fireplace, a winding staircase,a well stocked pantry, an craft room crammed with fabric, a library full of classics and a view of the snow falling gently against the backdrop of the great rocky mountains.

And if you know me at all...you know that is saying an awful lot.