HOME. When you read that word, what were the images or sounds or other words that popped into your head? Was is it a physical location? A spirit of place? Ancestral? The dying, it seems often reference "home" as their childhood homes and their families of origin. Dementia patients as well eventually arrive at this stop on the time travel train wending through their plaque-addled brains. Even Frank Sinatra misses the biscuits his mother made when she was able, in his sappy, but never fails to bring tears to my eyes Christmas diddy. Considering (if we're lucky) we live at home only a quarter of our lives or less, the power and the sacredness of this connection is herculean. I am more keenly aware of this as my home from my youth is now someone else's and the bulk of the people that populated it are dead AND I have become a co- creator of myth and family lore for my daughter. I hope the vagaries of memory and time treat us well.
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