“…where there is true joy, there is home.”
The Rock That is Higher
Three weeks ago at this time, I was flying to Los Angeles. Now I am in San Francisco, under the covers in the bed that will always be Emily’s, writing this. I keep looking at the clock, reminding myself that a half an hour might seem like a luxurious amount of time to get ready, but I’m going to regret typing so slow in about twenty five minutes .
This house on Cutty Ct. feels like home. Being where Rachel was felt like home. The Disneyland hotel… DEFINITELY felt like home. None of these are my home, in the tangible sense of the word. One of the greatest things about returning to my tangible home is mail. That’s probably how you know where home is.
But for the non-tangible home? That kind of home is found where you can laugh without abandon, weep without reservation and sleep near people you love. I am lucky to have that kind of home all over. This seems like a perfect time to share one of my favorite Billy Joel lyrics.
I need you in my house, cuz you’re my home.Â