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When my mind is not occupied by nonfunctioning gauges, I sometimes find myself pondering other less-tangible subjects. For example, where is “home?” This post was inspired by some friends who, after cruising for a few years, posted on Facebook that they finally made it back home. In their case, home was a spot in the US, and based upon what they wrote, they were quite happy to have made it back there.

As I mulled the subject around in my mind a bit, I asked Rebecca that if she was to say that she was going home, where would she mean? She said Deep River, because that is where she grew up and where her father still lives. I followed up by asking that if her dad was to move, would she still consider that home? She wasn’t sure.

In my case, home is here. Although I was born there, there is no place in Canada that I would call home. I have no family remaining in the town that I grew up in, nor do I have any property remaining there or in the city where our business was located.

I know some people set out cruising with a very specific time frame in mind. They still own property and/or maintain storage lockers full of stuff. They have family and friends waiting for them to return. That’s just not how we went about things. At least in my case, when we left Canada, home left with me.