The preponderance of the five hours I spent in the airport yesterday I used to ponder. The preponderance of pondering pointed me precisely to one simple point: While home is great for where it is, what it has, and what it looks like, it is home because of who is there.
The feeling that accompanied the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of my house was spectacular. What a blessing it is to be somewhere comfortable and recognized. Still, the thought of the familiar sights, sounds and smells did not entreat me to wait by the overcrowded Gate 25 for three hours before boarding. They didn't motivate me to only get four hours of sleep after getting in at two o'clock in the morning. Nor did they persuade me to discard my own plans in order to accommodate new ones. All of this I did to spend more time with the people I love; the people that make home home.
So the sadness that hung over me yesterday as I waited to leave home did not manifest itself because I was going to miss the sight of our kitchen, it was there because I knew I already missed all of the people I was leaving at home.
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