I was home.
When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood.
That's it, really, in a nutshell.
I miss the camaraderie of my family, the feeling of belonging somewhere. I ache for the Pacific Northwest, not for the place but for the belonging and inclusion.
But maybe that's another blessing of children: once we no longer are the ones being protected and sheltered, we protect and shelter our own. We leave our childhood homes to make new ones for our children.
And we try our damnedest to do as good of a job as our own parents did.