It is 15 days until I fly home to California. It is strange to count the days, to think I've been away almost 8 months. My longest stretch before was 10 months abroad, but this time it's different: I'll go back home across the Atlantic this time.
A friend asked about my month-long visit, about how I was adjusting to living in London and how glad I was to be seeing family and friends again.
'Ah,' she said, 'but you still call California "home."'
'I call home wherever where I'm not,' was my reply. 'I have homes all over the world.'
Truth is, I was startled by her question. I was unsure how to respond, without knowing just then what I thought about home. I do have homes all over the world, places I feel loved and welcome--Yreka, Santa Cruz, the Bay Area, Galway, Los Angeles--but right now I can't imagine living anywhere but London.
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