We went home to see my family in Georgia last week. However, it didn’t quite feel the same. My parent’s house felt the same, the town changed very little, but when we went back to Michigan I didn’t feel like I was leaving home. Although I was leaving my family after a great visit, it occurred to me that home wasn’t Georgia anymore. In fact, home is not a specific place at all. Home is where my husband and children are. It’s interesting how much my views on home have changed over the years. I would often say I missed home, but what I meant was I miss my family. When I married my husband, I realized that home is not a physical location. Home is where I feel safe, loved, protected, and cherished; home is my husband.