Staatenlos

Frequently, I wonder about how others may define home, homeland or hometown. For me its an abstract concept. Growing up as an “army brat” life was akin to living in the White House. You could never be certain you’d be there two full terms. I have few memories at all if any of Germany and Virginia. It wasn’t until Alaska that I can really recall anything substantial. The Good Friday Earthquake and the Iditerod with my Dad are my most vivid recollections. (In a later post I’ll have a lot more to share about those two experiences.)

I’ve been on my own pretty much since I left for college at 15 with only a brief stay at home with my parents after that. The longest time I attended school in a community I lived in was 6 years. I’ve lived in my present community for about 13 yrs now , the longest I’ve ever consecutively lived in one town. Despite that fact, I can count on one hand the people I know directly here and do not even know any of my neighbor’s names. Most of my friends and acquaintances live in neighboring towns or in the vicinity of my church where my mother lives. I communicate regularly with maybe three people that I ever attended school with.

Yet as I return full circle to the land of my birth, and my mother’s birth I’m going to a strange and foreign place. I know no one except persons there that I’ve met and communicated with online. There is evidence I have biological relations there, but that’s another trip for another day and time. This trip is devoted to visiting who I’ve come to know as my brothers and sisters on the other side. In their company, I’m sure to be at home.