Of course, there is no place like home.
If I did have an opportunity to live a nomadic life, travelling from place to place would I do it? Of course don’t we all do it. May not be like herdsmen or huntsmen. But we do leave the confines of our shelter, our habitat our familiar terrain and venture into our workplace.
But who is a nomad? A wanderer to me it is the person who is looking beyond. And most of us are just that, seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another, and no sunrise finds us where the sunset left us.“
Home is not, a set house or single town on a map. It is wherever the people who loved you were. Whenever you were together. Not a place but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life. Where ever you may go. It’s a place where you can sob until the sobs of the child inside subsides entirely, and, you let sorrow go. It’s like swimming against the current. It exhausts you but the river has brought you to a restive destination where you can let your sorrow, fear and anger go, it has brought you home.
Sometimes home is not a place it could be a person.