Do you ever want just to go home? (Details inside)

Home for me is right where I am. I have no place else to go – my siblings are spread out, my mother is in a seniors’ condo building. No one I know lives in the town where I went to high school.

But I am known here where I live, and have connections I have made by being a part of the community here. And my children, who are my family, live here with me.

@talljasperman You don’t go into detail about your grandmother, but it sounds like there was no one capable of caring for her. That can be sad for seniors, they outlive their ability to be self sufficient.

Are you wanting to go back to move in with your family? There comes a time when people must put away their youth, your mother can’t take care of you any more. Or do you want to move back to the town you grew up in? You ca do that. But you will need to take care of yourself first, eat healthily, get a job and earn some money. And if you do all that your self esteem will greatly improve and life will look much better to you.

I am home now, with my wife and daughter. They are all that matters to me. Everyone else, if I’m being honest, is just window dressing. Wherever they are, is home to me.

I have certain childhood memories that feel like home, but I know they are just nostalgia — and that’s okay too.

Best of luck to you @talljasperman in finding what is home to you.

Since losing my home of 7 years in the spring of 2013, yes, absolutely. I loved that house, it was my haven, the most wonderful, secluded, little slice of heaven. I miss it terribly.

I’m home.
That could change, and you know what? Here I would still be. Home is where I am. How can it be any different?

@ibstubro True. Here I am, in my new digs, adapt or die. I guess adaptation wins, for now. lol

@zenvelo O.K. Fluther is my home. I spend most of my waking hours on-line.

Never. Anyone with half a brain moved away from where I’m from. My family knows how to text, thats close enough.

Psych ward hospital. I just hope I can stay away long enough to take care of Ma. It’s an explicit and implicit agreement we have. Yet as I have intimated “they” are going to have a Hell of a time doing it. Everyone is responsible for their own life, that is why I cannot kill. It’s not my place.

Just as you can’t go back in time, you can not go home. Nothing stays the same and the home that you remember simply doesn’t exist except in your mind.

To me home is a stable healthy/happy environment in which to live. If you don’t have that then you don’t have home.

I’m happy in my present home with my wife and two cats and living happily ever after

Home is where you can fart freely & not give a shit…hopefully, coz that would be messy.

One thing I had always heard was, “You can never go home again.”.

After serving a few years in the Navy, I found a lot of truth to that. While every place changes over time, it’s gradual enough that you barely notice. However, if you leave and return, it will change while your memories of it won’t. If you leave for a few months, it’s not too bad. If it’s 5 years or more, well, it’s just simply no longer the place you considered “home” even if it has the same geographical location.

To me, home is a transient concept. Granted, it’s been almost 20 years since I lived aboard a ship, but when you can sleep in the same rack (bed) in the same berthing yet wake up in a different country or just in the middle of nowhere, that is jarring enough that no place is ever really home again anyways.

That’s the only thing I ever want, I don’t care for much more!

Tom Wolf says “you can’t go home again” and it remains one of the most profound truths I’ve come across.

Your folks are right. Everything you knew and loved no longer exists. You cannot turn back time; home is where you are now.

To quote Thomas Wolfe: “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing’s sake, back home to aestheticism, to one’s youthful idea of ‘the artist’ and the all-sufficiency of ‘art’ and ‘beauty’ and ‘love,’ back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermude, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time—back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”

My house is my home and my kids’ home – in addition to their own homes that they live in. The past few weeks have made me so happy that I bought my Ex out of it and stayed.

Home is 2.5 hours south, where I grew up and where all my immediate family lives. It’s the house where almost all my memories are. It’s comfort, and safe, even when they drive me crazy.

Home is also 90 minutes north, with my recently deceased best friend’s family resides. It’s the only place nowadays where I feel like a whole person again. There’s a love there that is like my own blood family’s love. I have a room there, and the pets are like my own. I’m as much a part of the family as any member.

Home is not where I live. Home was Corey, and when he died, this place where I moved out of so much hope has become a great burden to me. Even though he lived in a different state, knowing he was always there if I needed him made my life rich. There is nothing for me here.

@janbb happy for you!

Before my mother got ill she always told me I could come “home”. Home was the house her and my dad bought when I was 5 and grew up in. When she became ill I did go back “home” to take care of her. It was odd in a way living there again after being away for ten years. But it quickly felt like home again.

I was married for seven years and we bought a house. It felt like home there to me too. But that is becoming a faded memory.

We sold my mom’s house when she went into the nursing home. I moved out physically, but that will always feel like my home. I know if I end up elderly and in a nursing home someday that is where I will mean when I say “I want to go home”.

However, the place I share with my partner now is, in a way, also homey feeling to me. Because he is here and because my kitties are here.

Home is my flat. I greet it happily almost every day. However, when I’m sad, I get a weird longing for “home” without knowing where that is. Feels like nostalgia.

I didn’t have a “home” until I was 44, and moved into my current abode with my fiancé and son. Because of the abuse that occurred in my childhood, I never felt safe or accepted with family. Because of my low self-esteem I mad poor relationship choices in my 20s and 30s and never felt safe or accepted with any of my partners. Once I developed a stronger sense of personal integrity, I found that I can feel comfortable nearly anywhere. Once I built a solid relationship with a man who loves me unconditionally, I felt safe and accepted; and the place where we share our lives is safe, warm, accepting, cozy, and mellow. The only tension in the household is between the two cats, who don’t get along.

The Trip to Bountiful

Magnificent movie.