Do People Make Home?

     Is home made up of people? So if you're with your family, your loved ones, or your close friends, you're home? Is that what it takes to make a home?  

     If so, I'm not home. And won't be for awhile. 

    Or am I home after all?  

    I am in the country where I was born, the country of my parents, my extended family and the biggest beloved lemons the world has ever seen. 

    Just not the country where the family I've created is. 

    I'm back on the side of our hill in Italy now and my husband left for London last night to go back to work. 

     I'm technically alone here now, although for a fluke of events, I've actually got three boys here with me today. My son's backpacking friends. I guess they're not really boys anymore, all three of them long past the age where they could get sent to Iraq or Afghanistan to have their legs blown off.  

     Although my elder son's not here. He's in Milan. (long story, which I'll tell you about if and when there's anything to tell). He's coming tonight and they're all leaving for more backpacking adventures tomorrow.

     And then, well, I guess then it'll be the first day of the rest of my life.

     Although I'm scared to be alone here for a long time, scared to be lonely, I guess, I'm also looking forward to it. Does that make sense?  

     I need to contemplate where my home is. And what I'm going to do when I get home.  

     I've bought no return ticket to London. I have no timetable. I'm just here. For as long as I want to be here.

     My husband doesn't know when he'll be back, when he can take more vacation.

    So he's there. And we're playing it by ear.

    Can you play home by ear?