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"Home" in Yuma

I've been thinking about home lately and what that really is. As a full time RVer there really is no "place" that we call home. I was reminded of an assignment that my son Gabe was given in middle school. It was a descriptive writing piece on your "home". Now Gabe doesn't necessarily think like other people and he rails against conventional definitions. Gabe informed his teacher that his home had nothing to so with the "house" that he lived in but rather the people that he lived with and were the core of his life and he refused to write the paper in deference to the fact that the instructions were wrong. If she wanted a description of the house he lived in that is what she should have stated in the instructions. Some of this was just the bluster of a middle schooler but what he said had merit though this teacher did not want to hear it. I agree with Gabe that home isn't the house itself but the people in that house and the memories that surround it.

This brown house was our 2nd house, I couldn't find a photo of House #1

We lived in several places with our children and each of those spaces have special places in my heart. The first house we shared as a married couple was the house we first brought Gabe home to and those memories make it very special. Our second house was an older and smaller home that allowed me to be a stay at home mom. It was also the place we brought our second child home to. It has lots of special memories as it was a wonderful place for our young boys to live and explore as it had a large wooded back yard with their own fort, sandbox and lots of area to run. The last house we shared with our kids was a house we had built for us and what a process that was! It really was a wonderful house that had the elementary school in the backyard. This is where the boys became young men and all the travails that come along with adolescence and young adulthood. So each house had its special times but, as Gabe pointed out, it wasn't the walls or the structure that made it home, it was the family that inhabited it.

The boys in front of last house as it went up.

Our last sticks and Bricks house.

I can honestly say that neither John or I miss the houses. They are lots of work and effort and for many people that is something they enjoy but it's just not for us. What I do miss sometimes is having a space where the kids can come to. They don't really stay with us and it would be a challenge in our little space and they are busy living their own lives but sometimes I do get nostalgic for that and it's usually this time of year.

For me, home is wherever John is- wherever we are together. I know it sounds cliche but it's true. I love my little trailer and all the places we have visited in it but if John weren't in this adventure with me it wouldn't feel like "home". As it is, together we have the necessities and some luxuries in this little space and we can just take it along with us. My backyard has been the mountains, the desert, the oceans, the prairies, lakeside, so many special places. We do keep an eye to where we might want to put down the jacks and stay once we are done wandering but so far haven't found that spot.

The flamingo says Brrrrrrr, glad that's behind us.

I have found that my happy places are many of the parks we have stayed in. I still favor that environment over an RV park. Here in Yuma we are in a very nice RV park with plenty to do and are enjoying that but we can't see ourselves in this type of place--yet. We would rather be in a campground where there is plenty of hiking and just a great outdoors vibe. So we have been here a little over a month and yes I have hitch-itch again. A month seems to be about the time I am ready to move on. We will be moving on to Tucson the first of January so I won't suffer from this ailment long. I don't think you can really call this suffering as life is pretty good here.

As Christmas approaches perhaps each of us should ponder what home means to them individually as I am sure it is different for each one of us. It should be a time we can reflect and be thankful for all the blessings of home and family. Also to be generous to those who lack home and family. I will make a little plug here for those red buckets of the Salvation Army, over $.90 of every dollar you give goes to those in need. When I found this out I made a pledge to myself to never pass one of those without putting something in it, even if it means digging the change out of the bottom of my purse. Here's a little Bell ringing video Christmas gift from me to you.
Bell Ringer Joy

So in case I don't get anything written before Christmas we wish the best this season...................
Happy Trails.............