Things get a little surreal on a trans-Atlantic flight and sometimes your mind wanders. I mean if you really thought about the fact that you are sitting in a aluminum can that is 7 miles above the ground and traveling nearly 600 miles per hour, it could drive you a little crazy. So there I was traveling "home" to Germany, where Magda (and Frannie) where. But just a few weeks earlier, I was in a similar plane going the other direction, traveling 'home" to the USA.
That started me thinking where I consider to be "home". Yes, I know, "Home is where the heart is". But just what puts your heart in one place or another.
I'm willing to accept that "home" is a relative term. When I'm in Hilton Head, I might say "I'm ready to go home" after an evening out, meaning I'm ready to go back to our condo. But I don't consider a trip to Hilton Head to be a trip "home".
There needs to be some strong connection to a place that makes you call it “home”. I still have a strong connection to Columbus, but maybe a bit weaker than it was 6 months ago. With my house, the financial connections are still there. More importantly, there are friends and family there that I enjoy seeing and talking to. Finally there is a comfort level associated with a place that I lived for 49 of my 57 years. But work is no longer a part of this connection. Plus Magda and Frannie are now in Germany, forming the primary connection that I have to Koblenz.
Time will tell if the connections to one place supersedes the connections to the other. For the time being, I guess I have two homes.
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