October Thought Day 2: Home

What does the word “home” mean to you, and no I’m not fishing for a haunted house answer either. Unless of course you’re a ghost and you are reading this on the Supernatural Interwebs and you actually live in a haunted house. In which case, do elaborate. Snails carry their homes on their back so they are already home no matter where they go. One of my favorite signs comes from a realty company and reads “If you lived here you’d be home now.” It tickles my fancy. I understand what they mean, but it seems magical to me, like suddenly I could just decide to live there and I would instantly be home. How cool would that be! Then there are the sayings; Home is where the heart is. There’s no place like home. Home is where you hang your hat. I could Google more of them but I think you get the picture.

So why am I even asking this question in an October Thought? What do non haunted houses have to do with October anyway? Simply put, the month makes me both nostalgic and contemplative. I take out my decorations and reminisce about holidays gone by and what I was doing back then. I think about how my life has progressed or stalled. I think about where I am going to put this year’s décor and think of where I have arranged things in the past. I have a freakishly odd memory when it comes to this kind of stuff. I can recall where I got almost all of my decorations and where I have put them over the years. Sometimes I can’t remember my own phone number and occasionally I space out on my own name, but decoration locations, I’m golden, I’d win a trivia contest on it if there was such a thing….anyway back to home.

Home is where I can be the most me possible. It’s where I feel safe and comfortable. I can walk through it in my jammies with my pumpkin socks singing Thriller with not a care in the world. Home is where I can curl up on the couch and read as the rain pelts down on the roof. At home I can paint my toenails October colors by firelight and listen to the sounds of the high school football game floating up from the valley. Home is a place I can festoon with seasonal frippery and fill with the smells of autumnal baked goods. Home is where my things are, where my family is and where I welcome my friends. Home is where I can rest and make memories.

However, when I’m on a trip, I find myself calling my hotel room home. My friends’ houses are home, so is my church. Places I have lived before are also home. If I’m on a long trip, or watching a double feature at the drive-in, my truck is home. The concept of home seems to have many facets just like love. The idea of home means something different for everyone, or maybe it doesn’t. Some don’t have a home and some only consider home a state of mind.

All I know is that this evening, when I was watching the sun fade over the horizon, my home was back lit with this golden shimmer and it pulled on my heart strings. There it was, my home, and it got me to thinking, hence this post. So, what does home mean to you? I’d really like to know.