Webster defines ” home” as:
1)The house in which a person or family lives.
2)The place where something is usually or naturally found.
3) Place of origin.
“Home” has become very different for me. I really don’t have an official place where me or my family lives, we are naturally found literally all over the place, and my place of origin isn’t even this country. So, as with any new location, when you are “the new girl” the very first question you are asked is “where are you from” or “where is your home”. I have come to realize, that for me there is no easy answer. In fact, there is no answer at all.
I have been in this new temporary location of New Town, North Dakota for a little over a week, and will be here roughly until mid December. I’m treating patients on an Indian Reservation in a new clinic with four physicians and one other NP. The town is small, although oil was just struck here so it’s a bit of a boom town. (There will be a post dedicated to just this place soon, I have some catching up to do with assignments and places).
So how DO I answer that simple but very complex question? To some people, home is that main dwelling that has a mortgage, that you’ ve owned for years with a flower garden and an address you can count on. Some live in one house but think of their home as another dwelling in another place, usually where you grew up. Home has different connotations for different people.
For me, I have come to realize that through the choices I have made and for all practical purposes I am basically professionally homeless. My belongings are safely stored and my address is a PO box with forwarded mail. I own what I can pack in a car and I’m not even sure where the next location will be. I have learned that things, however much coveted and enjoyed, are temporary, but the people in your life trump them all.
So where is my home?
For me? Home is a person (or people), and not a place.
No matter where (or whom) you consider “home” it should be your safe place. Your castle. The place you look forward to going to after a work shift. The place you can kick your shoes off and watch a football game. Sleep with both eyes closed. And feel happy, at peace, but most of all thankful that you’re there.
So my home is in Ipswich Suffolk England. It’s in South Pasadena, Ca. Portland, Oregon and Flagstaff, Az. It’s in Tucson and Phoenix and London. And soon to be another in Columbus Ohio. I may not have an actual dwelling I can always go to, but I am blessed beyond belief to have the people in my life that I can call home. For I have many. They are all different, but they are all home.
And for the next 12 weeks, my home is in New Town, North Dakota. An extremely different land that I am just now getting to know. Stay tuned.
So wherever it is that you call home, take care of it, appreciate it, and make it your own. And just like Dorothy said…..”there’s no place like home”……
Until next time,
Be kind, Be thankful, and be true to who you are.
What interesting work you do! As far as home goes, I’ve always liked Robert Frost’s definition: “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Ironically, it’s from a poem (“The Death of the Hired Man,” where exactly that does not happen.
Thank you very much for your comment. Home is different for us all. We have evolved into such a Nomadic society however, that the definition of home has definitely adopted new definitions.