There are many facts that historians seek to find. One turn of phrase that has stuck with me since my time studying history has been this: one of the major things that historians look at is change over time and space. It’s interesting how our own personal change over time and space affects the words that we use as we discuss our own personal histories.
I was listening to a podcast where one of the guests was describing when he goes home to New Orleans that he now goes “home” to a house that he never lived in as a child, because his home was destroyed his senior in high school due to hurricane Katrina.
At that very moment, I happened to be driving past the neighborhood where I spent nearly 20 years of my life as both a child and an adult. The house where my parents spent nearly 30 years of their lives.
This culmination of physical closeness to what I considered a “home” and the discussion of what really is a metaphysical sense of home got me thinking. I keep thinking about how, for some of us, the language that we use as we describe what we are doing changes drastically.
What this means to me, is what I think of when I think about the word home. Now in most cases, the English language is woefully inadequate when it comes to describing almost anything. Why is this? I believe this comes from the fact that many of our words have multiple definitions or we have multiple words that sound identical and mean so many different things, i.e. ate and eight as well as there, they’re and their. And because of this, the words that we use to describe things very not only from person to person, but also from meaning to meaning and we have to unpack our own choices when it comes to the words that we use.
This really hit me today as I was thinking about going to visit my family for Christmas. I no longer say that I’m going home for the holidays. Why is this? I think it’s because recently, my parents moved. For those of you that don’t know, I currently live just outside of Denver in one of the suburbs called Englewood and my parents recently moved to the other side of the state.
I think their reasoning behind this move was motivated mostly by emotions. My little sister and her family live over in Grand Junction. And if we want to speak on memories, my parents were married in Grand Junction and all three of their children were born there. There’s a whole list of happy memories associated with the western slope of Colorado for my parents.
But for me, home will always be the house that I spent nearly all of my formative years in. It’s the house on Mars. Not to planet, but the street. This is where I became an adult. It’s where, when I was stationed in Italy while in the Air Force, I would say I was “going home on leave”. It’s the home I lived in when I graduated from Emporia State University with a master’s degree and also where I struggled with posttraumatic stress. So much of who I am is defined by that space in the time I spent it.
But now that house is no longer a part of my life. Someone else lives there, someone else will now have their “home” centered around that space. And it’s in that change of space that has me evaluating what the word home now means to me.
What does the word home now mean to me? I really don’t know, but I think this is a good a venue to explore what I think of when I hear the word. Let’s utilize one of my favorite hobbies: philosophy.
Now, I am in no way a professional philosopher, but I do take it seriously. As I have heard many philosophers say, we need to define our terms.
HOME
noun
1. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.
2. the place in which one's domestic affections are centered.
3. an institution for the homeless, sick, etc.: a nursing home.
4. the dwelling place or retreat of an animal.
5. the place or region where something is native or most common.
6. any place of residence or refuge: a heavenly home.
7. a person's native place or own country.
8. (in games) the destination or goal.
This is only a small selection of the definitions of the word home that can be found on dictionary.com. As you can see, there are so many different ways the word home can be utilized. Are we only talking about the physical location where I go after work during the week? The place where I have domestic affections? I really hope that I don’t need to go to an institution for the homeless or sick.
I know that within the last six or seven months I have not used the word “home” to mean a place where I have domestic affections. This is not to say that I don’t love where I live. I have a dope apartment, a roommate who I’m glad to have in my life, and I’m located in one of the best places for a single, slightly overweight, nearing middle aged man could want to live. But even though I have lived in this space for over two years, it really isn’t a home in that metaphysical sense.

Moments like this mean so much
There is so much about what makes a space a home for us. It’s our time spent with the people who care for us. It’s the conversations and experiences that we have while occupying that space. Now, a good chunk of the last year has been overtaken by the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic, but I have yet to really connect with this space that I live in.
I do know that I will never see the area that my parents live as home, in that metaphysical sense. There is a long list of reasons, mainly stemming from the fact that I do enjoy living in an urban environment and having to deal with the ultra-conservative leanings of a large portion of the population in that area is not for me.
But when do I get that feeling of “home”? Is it when I finally purchase my own home? That seems pretty far-fetched in the world that we live in. Is it when I establish more relationships and have meaningful experiences in a space? If you’ve ever met me, then you know that I tend be a very distanced person, and I think that it pushes other away so that’s out.
I think that part of the reason I’m struggling to find a space that I can call “home” is because my family has left the immediate area. It used to be the case that, if I wanted, I could drive for about ten minutes and visit my parents or take five to ten minutes longer and see my twin sister. Now, neither of those scenarios are possible. Not only have my parents moved, but my twin eared a promotion that required her to move to Colorado Springs, a city that is approximately two hours away. She was the last connection I had to my immediate family that was easily accessible.
With the advent of modern communications technology, talking and connecting with anyone is extremely easy, yet it never feels like I’m making a really connection. There is something special of being in the same physical space as another person, especially someone you care deeply about. Text messages are never quite enough.
Now, I quickly want to acknowledge my privilege for a moment. I very lucky to have a space where I can live. I know that many people in this current time are struggling to pay rent and pay their bills. This is in no way meant to minimize the struggles of those who are worried about losing their home or those who are currently homeless. I can only have this type of metaphysical discussion with that type of security.
Now, I know this was bit of journey, but it’s something that plays on my mind. As we come up on the holiday season, these are the things that can lead to craziness in my seasonal depression, so I find it best to speak or write about them.
Thanks to all of you who have made it to this point. Know that I love all of you an wish you the best as we go through this tough time. We can make it through together.



