What makes a place “Home”?
I’ve always wondered that and now I really suppose it’s up to the person. A lot say it’s where your heart is, a lot say it’s where you were born or where your family is.

I know for me, it’s where my heart is.
My Home, no matter where else I may live, is Durango, Colorado. I was born there and grew up outside of town on a little farm. I grew up never worrying about locking a door or leaving your keys in the car. We got to play after dark and chase fireflies. When I was 10 I got to start riding my bike into the smaller town near us and go swimming and play soccer. I realize now that I grew up with so much freedom…freedom to be a child and put off worrying about the world until I was older.
For me, nothing beats a childhood where I had the best Dad I could have ever wanted and we went fishing together at the lake. Where I ran around barefoot most of the year. Where I learned to be responsible because I had horses to take care of…Where I could make a crown out of dandelions, sit bareback on my horse and run across fields with the sun on my shoulders. Where seeing snowcapped peaks was just daily life….and I made snow angels and caught snowflakes on my tongue all winter long.
Durango is my heart. I love it there like I love a person, which isn’t understandable to most people. But to me it’s more than a place. It resides in my heart always. It holds me like a mother and makes me feel safe and content and like I am truly where I belong. It’s Home. It has my heart and it beckons me back to it’s valley’s and mountains every day….Every Day.

Maybe, Just maybe I’ll be blessed enough to find myself back there. Gazing as the mountains and stars I grew up with…Knowing I am finally again where I belong.

Journal Comments

  • stephaniek
  • Jen Millard