Tell 'em I've been cooking coconut skins...

I came home a couple days ago.
My brother and my sister-in-law are moving into their new home this week (which is eeriely similar to the old house from our childhood).
My friend is attempting to fly home in the midst of a Blizzard in Denver.
Home? Home is always changing. As of now, I have a number of places I could call home. One in New Westminster, one in Columbus, and one in Houghton. If home is where the heart is, then my number of homes exceeds those and passes into the double digits. And yet this scares me, because my heart is constantly torn. If I am in Houghton, I think about Canada, my neice, and all the happening there. If I am here, in New West, I think about my college friends and their lives, and of next semester and the future. Perhaps it's merely wanting what I can't have. Perhaps it's wanting the best of both worlds.
Christmas is next week; that means less work, more movies, more food, more planning day-trips, and more family time. And despite the other places that occupy my heart and mind, despite the fact that coming home is more challenging than going back to college, family is still central. For Christmas, I am not restless. I am content.