Home...

I am commonly asked, "Where are you from?" By various people intrigued on why I moved to NYC, or by people I've met in the city who are just curious about me or making small talk. For all of them, I have a simple answer that no matter what, always gets a response; "Wyoming." That's all I have to say and questions come gushing. 

However, lately, I've been wondering when I would just start telling people that I simply live in Harlem. There's something I love about the novelty of being from such a foreign place. No, it's not a foreign country, but most people I've met wouldn't even be able to point it out on a map. I'm sure some people reading this would think that's insane, but stop and think for a minute, do you really know where Wyoming is? Or do you just think you're that smart? Sometimes I try to tell people that I'm from Harlem, and they immediately ask, "But, where is HOME?"

So this got me thinking about what makes a home a home. Of course, there's the standard thought of "home is where the heart is" bullshit. Others think of home as the place they grew up, while some think of it as where they are currently, which follows back to the where the heart is. But, I never had a house that I grew up in. I have friends who have parents who have lived in the same house for about 30 years or more. We moved every few years. And, I move apts a lot in NYC because I keep getting acting jobs and rarely people want to live with actors because we sublet a lot. So, what makes it so special?

A few years ago, my parents moved to Canada (western side north of Calgary.) I live in NYC. My oldest sister lives in my hometown in Wyoming with her husband and kids, while my other sister lives in Florida with her husband. Yes, we're MASSIVELY spread out. Kind of sucks. Some people think that's a good thing, but when you hang out with my family, you understand that my family is amazing. 

So having said that, I've begun to realize that my home is now often thought of as my sister's house in Wyoming. It's kind of our central hub of gatherings and what-nots. And last year, I was blessed to spend roughly six weeks living in that house. I got my niece and nephews' birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Granted, one sister was missing, but, I got the time. 

So, That's when I realized how central her place was. But, what really got to me was this year I flew to Denver to be with all of my family, then we all flew down to Florida when my sister got married. The best thing is that I realized home isn't where I live in NYC, it's not ever my sister's house in Wyoming. Home is my family. It's not a home is where your heart is for me. Home is where my family is. Us together is more fun than I can explain. You have to belong to a family like mine to understand what the dynamic is like. But, rest assured, I'm a lucky boy and better for it.

So whether I go on to start my own family or not, move a thousand more times, I know that I do have a home, no matter what.