Home?

I am sitting in "my bed" at "home" ie. my parent's house, and it is a really strange feeling. It has been a long time since I have slept in this bed, and the last time I did, I wasn't alone.
Having Karsten gone sinks in in new ways every now and then...
The window is open, with the fan blowing in cool September air. I'm sleeping in one of Karsten's shirts that smells like our home--a smell I can't describe. Have you ever tried to describe the smell of home? It is just something familiar...
And now I feel slightly torn between what is more familiar, what seems more like home?
Home is a process. For those who grew up in the military, home is not a geographical place. For me, it is, I think.
Home is the river.
The smell of the Virginia woods.
Creeks.
Christmas brunch with sisters.
It is mix-matched sheets.
The garden.
Drinking wine before dinner...


But now, we are developing a new home. Home with Karsten is...
homemade dinners.
praying before meals and forgetting to bless the food
road trips
our screened porch
and long hugs.

I wish I could gather my thoughts tonight and... describe this feeling of disconnect. I am so happy to be here with family, but the most important part of my family, isn't here. I long for him. And I worry about him. I wish we were here together.