I'll Be Home For Christmas

"Do not go where the path my lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail" ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Looking into taking my have-to-do-this-before-I-die train trip to deliver Melissa to So. California next fall. Therefore, by default, Mark will get to see the Grand Canyon before he dies! We will travel west through 7-8 states and 2-3 National Parks, get Melissa settled, see a few sights with her, say goodbye, head up the coast to leisurely travel back along the Canadian border. Contemplating constantly, I'm sure, how and if we will deal with the empty nest once we get home.


Another four letter word that packs a punch, if you stop and think about it. Take me home. Home is where the heart is. Keep the home fires burning. Homesick. Home sweet home. Home away from home. Down home. Make yourself at home. Home stretch. Hurry home. Homemade. Straight home. Homeward bound.

Webster describes it this way:
1. Residence, the physical structure where one lives. 2. The native habitat of a plant or animal. 3. An environment offering security and happiness. 4. The place where something is discovered, founded, developed, or promoted.

I choose to describe it on my own terms.

Home is:
* Most farmhouses, but one in particular
* Current
* Wherever I feel comfortable in flipping my shoes off.
* 820 N. LaSalle, 1130 & 1212 S. Michigan Ave., 537 S. Dearborn #C, Chicago street addresses forever in my mind's memory bank
* Just driving onto the grounds of any camp called Springhill
* Sitting down for a hot cup of coffee and a warm chat.
* A garden level flat in Paris France and 10 cents per minute overseas calling plan
* 40 hours on an Amtrak Pullman car traveling out west
* A little glimpse of heaven here on earth. (Has to be.)

I have always felt somewhat of a wanderlust, nomadic, so to speak. A beckoning to move on, change, take the road less traveled. Maybe the fact that I've only lived in 2 houses for the majority of my life explains my ambivalent feelings of home that overwhelm and ground me. I'm always anxious to get home to my familiar, secure, stable, and comfortable place. The words to this Michael W. Smith song seem to capture my mood. Thankfully I haven't experienced near what one would call a "desperate" life, my human brain has yet to come to terms with anything but more of the same when I contemplate a heavenly home.

Wandering the road of desperate life
Aimlessly beneath the barren sky
Leave it to me
I'll lead you home
So afraid the you will not be found
It won't be long before the sun goes down
Just leave it to me
I'll lead you home
A troubled mind and doubter's heart
You wonder how you ever got this far
Vultures of darkness ate the crumbs you left
And you've no way to retrace your steps
Let it go and turn it over to
The one who chose to give his life for you
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
You're lost and alone
Leave it to me
I'll lead you home.

What I really want is to take the long way home.

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