After one of the longer days of my life complete with cancelled flights, switched flights, and delayed flights featuring lengthy stopover’s I was finally 30,000 feet in the air and getting closer and closer to Kitchener.
I had been home just 3 weeks ago, and my friends were well into their exams that I was sure, and tired enough that it was okay – I would just be getting off the plane to go home with my parents and go to sleep.
But through the glass window of the tiny box-like airport as I crossed that tarmac I caught one quick glimpse of my dad in a Santa hat and all I could think was, “oh no.”
Moments later I was stepping through the crowd and towards two best-friends and my family all equipped with their own Santa hats and singing (There’s No Place Like Home) Home for the Holidays while my brother played it on guitar.
And I got this feeling.
Which was something that was moderately close to crying, slightly face-hurting from smiling, and felt a little something like this…
Home, is not four walls and a house I grew up in.
Home is people.
Home is the way people make you feel.