Home

To some people, home is an absolute thing. It may be the house in which they grew up, the town in which that house is located, or at least the general geographic area surrounding that town. It doesn’t matter if they travel, get relocated by their job, or even if they retire to sunnier climes. “Home” remains that place of origin, and there they return when they are able.

Other people define home differently. Home is wherever you happen to be living. The location can change or not, depending on the person and their life choices, but “home” is still not a fixed locale.

My husband was one of the first sorts of people. I am one of the second sort. It took a powerful inducement to get him to not only move away from his home, but to move to a non-industrialized country 12 time zones away. That inducement was retirement at 49, while being financially comfortable. It was his idea, but one I responded to with enthusiasm. So here we are, 24 hours by air from the place he once called home, and yet it feels more like home to him than the old place ever did.