Home

Oh, I guess they'll say I've grown I know more than I wanted to know I've said more than I wanted to say I'm heading home Yeah, but I'm not so sure That home is a place You can still get to by train -Southbound Train, Jon Foreman I absolutely love that song, if you haven't heard it, you're doing something wrong, so give it a listen. I don't have anything just absolutely profound to share about this song, I just want to say that it rings true. There comes a point in life where you can't get home, by train, by bus, by car, by long walk. You can't get "home" anymore. "Home" doesn't exist. The home of your childhood is replaced. Your parents move away, or it doesn't feel the same. You walk into the home of your youth and can't find doorknobs or light switches. The family, even the family that you know, is different. And it cannot really be made "home" again. But it is almost required. Just like how when I was little, getting gifts was so incredibly important. I would count them, and hold it against people that I received fewer gifts than my little sister. But my best Christmas memories now involve giving. It's a switch of attitudes, a changing of the guard. Home isn't so much home, but new places are home. New people are family. New attitudes are the memories you want to hang on to. I'm headed home.

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