In the days leading up to my flight home yesterday, friends often asked me, “Are you looking forward to going home?”
I always gave them the same response, “I’m looking forward to seeing my family.”
For me, home has never been defined by the place. Rather, I am at home wherever and whenever I am with the people I love.
My sister and I refer to our physical home in the Philadelphia suburbs as “the armpit.” Indeed, stepping off the airplane and experiencing the moist rankness of the summer heat last night, I felt as though I had been thrust under the arms of a pubescent weight-lifter. Don’t get me wrong, I am very blessed to live in a beautiful home. However, vacations and attending college across the country have exposed me to the possibilities of a better quality of life elsewhere.
So, while it is nice to be “home,” I already can’t wait to escape the armpit and vacation in Maine with my family.