In a few weeks we’ll have moved for the third time in two years, over 7,000 miles between the moves. As we’ve bounced around, I found myself fighting to make a home out of an impermanent placement. It’s been tough, but wonderful.  In these last two years of upheaval, I’ve found that home isn’t so much a physical place made of bricks and beams, but a feeling. I’ve found home in the most surprising of places.

I found that my home will always be first in my husband’s arms. There is no other place that I feel so at peace.

I found home in the giggle of my 3 year old daughter but also in the late nights spent watching her sleep, thankful for every rise and fall of her tiny chest.

I found home in a tiny beach cottage in Connecticut with people I had never met, but within minutes felt like kin.

I found home on the internet with a family of individuals who knew every last bit of me, and have still loved me just the same.

I found home in the contact with my Aussie friend, as she checked in on me, her intuition ALWAYS being right about me and my emotions.

I found home in books.

I found home in a crowded assembly room in the Rhode Island State Senate.

I found home stretched out on the beach in the sun as I watched my three boys throw themselves into the ocean with the same joy that I always have.

I found home under the waves in the warm Bahamanian waters.

I found home in my own house here, as fifteen children clambered loudly about me and four friends who I had met through the autism community. Four women who I have watched as they bravely face the challenges of raising kids on the spectrum, but do so with a smile on their face and joy and compassion in their being.

I found home in a beautiful library in Providence as I marveled at the diversity of experiences that surround being a mother.

I found home in early morning cuddles with Casey, late night talks with Carter and in the constant singing of Peyton.

I found home in a conference for adults with Down syndrome as they taught me to expect only wonderful things for my daughter.

And I found home as I have awkwardly plunked out clumsy words and feelings too deep to express on this blog. In the comments of support, of direction and of laughter. Thank you for sticking around with me through these last two years. This blog has grounded me in areas that I needed to take hold, and set me free in areas that were weighing me down. Thank you for your letters, your friendship and as always, for sharing. Thank you for helping me to see that I can do some good with this dumb blog, and for making me feel like the time I spend here typing out insides is worthwhile. Thank you for being my home.