At the end of this month, it will be two years that we've been without a home. But, we are not homeless.

We don't own the walls in which we live. The furniture and linens do not belong to us.

That being said, we say something pertaining to "home" all the time.

"Let's go home."

"When are we going home?"

"When we get homeā€¦"

You get the idea.

Even when we are traveling, as we were the past few weeks, we'd call our Airbnbs "home".

Home has become where ever we all lay our heads at night. It's a feeling that exists where ever we all are.

One day, we may root down and commit to one place as home, but until then, home is truly where the heart is.

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