The Home Base

“The power of finding beauty in the humblest things makes home happy and life lovely.” Louisa May Alcott

Defining #home is a hard task for me.  I've had so many! Somehow, I've felt home in every single one of my assignments.  If you ask me where home is, right now it's #Rome, where I hand my hat and my heart every night.  But home can also be where my mom is....or where I own a house.

I was OK with my vague and complicated definition of home until my kids started to grow older.  I once asked my three year old where was he from and he responded: "China".  Of course, we were living living in China at the time.  I gave him a second chance to answer my question and he responded he was English.  Not quite the right answer.  I told him, he spoke English but that he was American.  At that point we realized it was probably wise to spend some time back in the U.S., so we moved back for a couple of years, bought a house and set our own home base.

Ever since we established our #homebase, it has been easier to answer to people when asked where home is for us.  Frankly, it's been easier to answer that question to ourselves  A friend of mine who grew up as a TCK (third culture kid) told me she considers herself Spaniard even though she doesn't hold a Spanish passport, because it is there where her parents bough a house to where they would go back year after year, for the summer breaks and holidays.  

Enjoying some baseball during our vacation back home.

I have been going back to my home base in Virginia at least once a year.  We visit with friends, eat at our neighborhood restaurants and shop at our local Whole Foods.  It has grounded us.  We know this #expat life comes with an expiration date, and eventually we will go back home.  It's good to have a home to go back to.

I know #repatriation is not easy (I've been reading about it) but that is material for another whole post.  Until then, Arrivederci!