I’ve always been far from home since an early age.
Aged twelve, off to boarding school, then to college and to work, to travel, happily to marry, all of it was far from home.
But you always go back home, no matter how far away home is.
Marriage brings children and a home, but you still have a home, with your family, both your families, so whilst home, you are far from home.
Life changes brought me far from home, again, a regular pattern plays out. I have another home now, a temporary one, I take every opportunity to go back to my home.
The noun “home” is defined as the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household or an institution for people needing professional care or supervision.
Being over the halfway mark, the former is more appealing than the latter, but for now, I’ll remain far from home until the next time.
Death is the furthest place from home.
Post for Day 10, Blogging101, inspired by Daily Prompt: Far from home and the theme inspired by the Weekly Photo challenge: Alphabet. I came across the inscription photos in Sri Lanka, carefully painted all along the street wall.