As we approach the holidays; the kids coming home, the hustle and the bustle, the laughing and sharing, the oldest of us and the new granddaughter, I am always reminded that this is home.

Home is were I am. It is where I am with the ones, and the things, that I love and cherish. This picture reminds me so much of what home means to me. On the letter “J” are the names of all our children who grew up in this house and come back whenever they can. It reminds me of how, over the years, we have always tried to be celebrating one thing or another. Home.

Home is where I get up each morning, start some coffee, read my New Yorker, and enjoy some quiet time. It is where I prepare to face a new day, whatever that may mean. Home.

Home has always been where we celebrate together, worry together, share with one another, disagree with one another…it is where we live. Home.