Home??? or "Who Am I" (said like Zoolander)

After a couple of recent conversations I have come to realize I am defective. Okay, I've always known that, but here is just another example of how I am defective:

I have no desire to move back to Utah. None. Zip. Nadda. I am not one of those wives who is constantly trying to get their husband to get a job in Utah so they can move back "home." Despite having lived in Utah for half of my life, it doesn't feel like going home when I visit. Don't get me wrong, I like Utah a lot. It is fun to visit, there are great things to do there, I love visiting my extended family, but it is not "home."

So that got me thinking, where do I feel at home? California is where I claim 'home' but I'm not dying to move back to California (mostly because I think my kids would get stabbed at school). Scottsbluff isn't really where I feel at "home." So why can I not come up with a place where I get teary to visit, and teary to leave?

I think it boils down to this: "Home" for me is not a town. It is not a specific place where I have tons of fond memories. Probably because this is my life; 8 years in Utah, 10 years in California, 6 more years in Utah, summers in Miami and D.C, bulks of summers in Canada, 3 years in Lincoln, and now 5 years in western Nebraska. I haven't been in one place long enough to have the bulk of my "home" making memories. I was a child one place, fell in love in another, had my first baby in another, bought my first home in yet another. All my big memories are really spread out.

So what is a poor little wanderer like me to do (tongue in cheek)? Well I've decided that, for me, home is not a place. It is people. I may not have a constant place that evokes those feelings of returning home, but I do get that feeling when I am around my family. Whether we are meeting at my parents home in Lancaster, blessing a baby in Salt Lake, doing Aspen Grove in Provo, going to DisneyWorld or Disneyland, or meeting at the Cabin in Waterton, those are the time I get teary. The more of my siblings and their spouses, the more those feelings warm my heart. Those are the times I am going "home."
Oh, I did think of a place that feels the most like home to me...Disneyland. Probably because we have been going multiple times a year since I was 8. I do get choked up every time we pull into a tiny parking spot dictated to us by a grown man in a yellow vest with an orange wand thingy. Plus I tear up every time we have to leave. I guess I should be begging Eric to get a job with Disney and move into Sleeping Beauty's castle. Problem solved.ps. Cara, you need to stop saying "your family." When you are there it feels more like home to me too. You are like my other little sister.Aren't you all jealous of my mad 5 minute photo shop skills? (a cookie to the first person to spot all 5 additions).