Here I sit in the waiting room at Dulles Airport, awaiting my flight back "home" to London, after a lovely visit back "home" in the US.   Which one really is home?  Well, my comfy pillow and my husband and youngest son await me in London, although my 2 oldest sons, the rest of my family, and my photo albums are in the US.  So which is it?  While in the US, it was great to be back in our awesome house in Vestal, NY - but I don't feel at all attached to that community.  Kyle & I drove to NJ for a few days, where I felt right at home, although I don't have a house there.  I have many wonderful friends in the US, but have made some wonderful friends in London.  And we have some friends that live beyond both of those locations.  While in my "hometown" of Liverpool, NY, I stayed with my sister Maria and of course visited with family at the old homestead on Berrywood Road, but my childhood bedroom is now my stepmom's cool state-of-the-art sewing room.  And is Liverpool really my "hometown" anyway, when I was born at Ft. Belvoir, VA, and lived in 3 other  places before my dad retired and moved us to Liverpool when I was all of 8 years old?  I spent time with a friend of 34 years (gulp - yes, Nancy - that's 3-4 years) during my visit, and also time with newer friends of only 7 years.

What is it that makes a place home?

Lots of things.  Berrywood Road is my home because it's the place where I witnessed my mom ace "Jeopardy" and my dad nearly blow a gasket laughing at Archie Bunker, and smelled their fried onions cooking on Saturday night steak night (theirs, not ours), and fought with my sisters, and listened to Elton John on my red transistor radio, and talked to Chris on the phone for hours - after 11 pm of course - when he was away at college.  Michael was born when we lived there.  Ithaca, NY, is my home because it's the first place our young family lived on its own - moldy cinderblock walls, Campbells Soup and all.  Virginia will always feel like home as I've lived there longer than any other place - albeit not all at one time; Eric & Kyle were born there, and we purchased our first house there.  It's where both Mike & Eric live now and where I still have good pals.  Even Brookfield, Connecticut feels like home; even tho' we were only there for 2 years, it was our biggest challenge in many different ways and at the same time a great community to live in.  Medford, New Jersey is where 2 of the boys graduated high school, where we lost our 2 beloved pets, and where I struck out on my own and established a "career" of sorts completely separate from the needs of my 4 guys.  The house in Vestal is where my Christmas decorations are; our flat in Hampstead is where I keep the Pyrex baking dishes that I've had since my wedding shower.

Before our first move away from Virginia, my neighbor and dear friend Enid gave me a hook with a sign that read "Home is where you hang your hat."  At the moment, the place I hang my hat is 20 Pavilion Court in London, England.  But I suppose what truly defines "home" are the memories and experiences from all of the places, however many or few, where your hat has hung.  Having so many darn hat hooks has not always been the easiest of lifestyles, but in the end, I am blessed to have had so many wonderful places to call home.