Home is where the mess is.
Home—is a simple word, yet it carries a universe of emotions between those four letters. Some memories are good, some bad, and some so lovely they feel like they happened to someone else.
I write tonight in my usual state: exhausted. Traveling with a family of five is an experience, but even amid the chaos, there's something beautiful about it. Every moment, every challenge, somehow leads back to the best moment of the day—walking through our front door.
That first breath I took when we arrived. The familiar scent of our place, the sight of my espresso machine waiting for me on the counter, my kids releasing deep sighs of relief as they settled back into their own space. My wife, with a contented smile, kicked off her shoes and jumped right into her favorite spot on the couch with that simple question on her face: "So, What are you feeding me?" (answer Chick-fil-A )
And in that moment, can I tell you how joyful I felt? The kind of joy that's simple and deep, like the first espresso shot after traveling for ten days. We have to travel, of course. It opens our eyes to new worlds and perspectives. But coming home—coming back to the people and the place that holds your heart—brings a new appreciation for the beauty in those four walls.
Before we left, all I could see were the imperfections in our home—the cracked tiles, the walls that need painting, the screen porch that's seen better days, the mess of my children's rooms. They were loud reminders of all I had to do, and home felt like a place where I couldn't quite catch my breath. But returning, it's so much easier to see those imperfections as memories etched into our lives. Those cracks in the tile? They're not just flaws but the wear and tear of a home filled with life and love. They really do need to get fixed, though.
It's funny how travel works. It takes you away, shows you the world, and then brings you back with fresh eyes. The place that once felt suffocating now feels like the best place in the world. Yes, the messes are still there—my kids' rooms were disasters within five minutes of being home—but there's no place I'd rather be.
They say home is where the heart is, and I'd add that home is where your coffee-making equipment is. Because after all the new sights, sounds, and experiences, there's nothing quite like that first cup back in your kitchen, surrounded by the people you love most.
Until Tomorrow
John D