Tracy, this is so quietly powerful. That line about the Airbnb being “a place to stay, not a place that knows us” landed right in the chest. I recognize that ache — not grief exactly, but the moment when chosen change taps on an older rhythm and asks to be acknowledged.
What I appreciate most is how you don’t rush to resolve it. You let home be unsettled, evolving, provisional. That tiny Target tree feels like the perfect symbol — not a replacement for what was, but a marker saying, I’m still here, even as the shape shifts.
I keep coming back to your question about whether home is something we carry. I suspect it is — a kind of internal furniture that gets rearranged rather than discarded. Less rooted, maybe, but more resilient.
Thank you for naming this so honestly. It’s a relief to read someone articulate the in-between without trying to make it tidy.
I love the way you describe it as “internal furniture that gets rearranged rather than discarded. Less rooted, maybe, but more resilient.” It captures what I’m feeling beautifully.
I so appreciate this Tracy and can relate in so many ways. I decided to live in two continents a couple of years ago, and sold the place I called home. Two years later, I still feel somewhat "home-less" every now and again. I like what you're suggesting though... about home being something inside me instead of an external place... I'm going to sit with that for a while. I'm glad I stumbled on this... Cheers!
I worry about that feeling of being home-less as well and wonder do I need to go back to Chicago near my children to get rid of it or will I ever settle into home by creating a new version of what home is. Only time will tell but I know that I have to be where it feels right not just where I feel obligated to be
Tracy, this is so quietly powerful. That line about the Airbnb being “a place to stay, not a place that knows us” landed right in the chest. I recognize that ache — not grief exactly, but the moment when chosen change taps on an older rhythm and asks to be acknowledged.
What I appreciate most is how you don’t rush to resolve it. You let home be unsettled, evolving, provisional. That tiny Target tree feels like the perfect symbol — not a replacement for what was, but a marker saying, I’m still here, even as the shape shifts.
I keep coming back to your question about whether home is something we carry. I suspect it is — a kind of internal furniture that gets rearranged rather than discarded. Less rooted, maybe, but more resilient.
Thank you for naming this so honestly. It’s a relief to read someone articulate the in-between without trying to make it tidy.
– Kelly
Kelly, thank you for this thoughtful response.
I love the way you describe it as “internal furniture that gets rearranged rather than discarded. Less rooted, maybe, but more resilient.” It captures what I’m feeling beautifully.
I so appreciate this Tracy and can relate in so many ways. I decided to live in two continents a couple of years ago, and sold the place I called home. Two years later, I still feel somewhat "home-less" every now and again. I like what you're suggesting though... about home being something inside me instead of an external place... I'm going to sit with that for a while. I'm glad I stumbled on this... Cheers!
I worry about that feeling of being home-less as well and wonder do I need to go back to Chicago near my children to get rid of it or will I ever settle into home by creating a new version of what home is. Only time will tell but I know that I have to be where it feels right not just where I feel obligated to be