Home - wherever that is

As the old gospel hymn says, "The world is not my home, I'm just a-passin' through...". For some of us that reality is almost a daily reminder. The question, "Where are you from?" always causes me to pause. I can join in almost any conversation with a, "Oh, I'm from there" which isn't a lie whether they're talking about Nashville or Boston. I can laugh hysterically at Saturday Night Live making fun of Newt Gingrich stomping New Hampshire, or I can roll my eyes at Texans who will vote for Rick Perry simply because he's from Texas. And you don't want to know how many times I start filling out something with a wrong address...well, an address that isn't my present one.

All that to say I'm home. Sort of. Actually, I think I've crossed over yet another right of passage into adulthood. For officially I suppose I can say I'm at my parents' house. It's not exactly home. For the first time in the two years I've been in Texas, I come to Indiana as a guest - meaning I don't have a bedroom here in anymore. Well, I am sleeping in my bed. In a room with my desk, my dresser and one of my bookshelves. But my desk doesn't have any of my belongings in it. My dresser has only a few of my clothes in it. My bookshelf does have my books on it, but only fifty or so of them. As for my bed, well, it's been moved and I'm sleeping on sheets and a quilt discovered in closets and a chest. Everything else I own is scattered about the house, being used by someone else, or packed away in boxes in the attic. It's all waiting for me to decide where I will officially make my home. Like I ever plan on making that decision.

It's been odd the last couple of times I've visited "home". When I went to New Hampshire in June, I felt like I was at war with myself - one foot in two worlds. I consider New Hampshire "home" like my parents consider Tennessee to be "home". I love New Hampshire. I would happily live the rest of my life there, except I must confess there is at least one thing in Texas I don't want to live without. Hence the two worlds. Coming to Indiana doesn't have that same effect. I only lived here 9 months, and I could well live without cornfields for the rest of my life. But most of my family is here. And I love being with them. But their life is certainly not the one I am use to anymore.

But I am happily home for the holidays...this time in Indiana. Next year? Well, who knows.