Nomadic. That’s one way to describe my childhood. Adventurous, structured, and secure are others.

No matter where we lived, home was where the family was. By the time I was fourteen, we had lived at six different addresses in four different states. But while everything around me was constantly changing, home was my constant. What gave me relief and sanctuary.

It wasn’t the walls, the doors, the yard; it was the smells and sounds of familiarity, the stories and memories that traveled with us, the pranks and smiles, and the people. Always the people. They are the security, structure, and adventure.

These people taught me that loving foundation and now I know what to want, what to deserve, and what to give. And all of this led me to You.

You are now my home. Not my first, not my last, and not my only. But you share and reflect everything I was shown and taught. And together we are building our home. The serenity, comfort, and shelter.

We spend most of our time here, yet we have multiple homes. Where our people are. Across the country and across the globe. As warm and familiar as our own, welcoming us with open arms. These are our homes. Our people.