Home Is Where Your People Are

Several years ago I gave my mom a small figurine that read “Home is Where Your Mom Is”. She placed it on her windowsill above her kitchen sink, and every time I visit, I notice it.

I used to think it was just a sweet little saying.

After two months in Laguna Beach, I think it means something much deeper.

When we moved from Arizona this summer, we finally had the freedom to ask ourselves a question we hadn’t asked in years:

“If we could live anywhere, where would we choose?”

We’ve spent the last two months settling into our new life. Morning walks on the beach. Tide pools. Sea glass. Doggy friends for Butler.

And yet…

I’ve also found myself missing something I didn’t expect.

Not Arizona.

The people who made me feel at home.

Our children are building lives in Arizona, New York and Kansas. My parents and brother are in South Dakota. The older I get, the more I realize the people I love are spread across a map instead of gathered around one table.

This weekend we headed back to Arizona to look at homes.

At first it felt like we were changing our minds.

But somewhere between the drive and the floor plans, I realized we weren’t trying to move backward.

We’re trying to move closer.

Closer to family.

Closer to the people who have shaped our lives.

Maybe that’s what home has always been.

Not the prettiest view.

Not the perfect house.

Not even the perfect city.

Just the place that makes it easiest to be with the people you love.