12 July 2026
I first moved to Canada about thirty-five or so years ago. As many of you know I grew up, mostly, in Bellingham Washington about twenty miles (37ish km for those Canadians in the room) south of the Canadian border. A small town at that time of around thirty-five thousand in the sixties and now around a hundred in the area. I went to all the local schools elementary through college. My family moved to the Nooksack river valley area around 1904 on my mom’s side (she was born in Bellingham at the same hospital I was. They moved to Oak Harbor in the early 40’s so my grandfather could help build Whidbey Island Naval Air Station for the war.); my father’s family moved to the Whidbey Island area before the turn of the century (He was born on the island). My parents grew up and went through high school at Oak Harbor High School before they were married and moved to Bellingham.
When I would cross the border to go to Bellingham to see family, friends, or to take my kids to see their grandparents I would feel like I was home. A positive feeling of comfort and maybe some relief that I was among people who would understand my Americanness and be more accepting of what I was. A little bit about the use of the word ‘relief’. Canadians have a mix of feelings and attitudes about Americans: they like Americans as individuals, mostly, but they do not like the United States. Now, under trump, they frequently hate the US and dislike Americans, some go so far as to just feel sorry for Americans as individuals. Canadians’ generally do not like the bluntness that is an American trait. They are trained to apologize for their opinions and Americans are trained that their opinions matter. That is not to say Canadians are not opinionated, they just do not say them to your face as Americans are more than willing to do—especially, me.
Back to the point. Some time ago, I cannot really pin it down, I stopped having this feeling of being home when I crossed the border into the US. One of those things that disappear only to be realized long after the fact. (other examples: realizing your kids are adults long after they are; realizing the days are getting longer or shorter during the year) I never really thought about it being gone until recently and this loss has brought me to some contemplation and several conversations on the idea of home and family. Interestingly, I do not feel I am home when I come back to Canada from the states either. There is an emptiness in this I cannot pin down.
The Oxford English Dictionary has several definitions over the life of the word ‘home’. Here are a few:
House (Hus) and Home (Ham), Hearth (Hearp {this, p, is the letter/rune Thorn, one of two ways to write TH in Old English. Eth, ð, is the other.}) and Home (Ham), are both old English (Anglo Saxon) phrases. OED: A. noun 1.I. The place where a person or animal dwells. I.2.a.b Old English – A dwelling place; a person’s house or abode; the fixed residence of a family or household; the seat of domestic life and interests. Also (chiefly in later use): a private house or residence considered merely as a building…
A later use, more in the sense I am writing of here: I.2.b. 1546 – Without article or possessive. The place where one lives or was brought up, with reference to the feelings of belonging, comfort, etc., associated with it. Recorded earliest in home is homely [ ]. also home is home [ ] , home sweet home [ ]. home is where the heart is [ ]. The absence of the article is probably connected historically with such constructions as at home, from home, to go home, etc.; but it appears also to be connected with the generalized or partly abstract sense, in which home is conceived as a state as well as a place, and is thus construed like youth, wedlock, health, and other such nouns.
And then: I.4. Old English – A refuge, a sanctuary; a place or region to which one naturally belongs or where one feels at ease. Also without article or possessive (cf. note at sense A.I.2b). I.5. Old English – A person’s own country or native land. Also: the country of one’s ancestors. Frequently without article or possessive (cf. note at sense A.I.2b). Formerly used with reference to Britain by inhabitants of (former) British dependencies; cf. old home n. and homeland n. 2.
As you can imagine there are many references. The hard copy of the OED I own has eleven pages of home related definitions (granted the Homer related words divide the collection of Home words).
I have a friend who says home for them is where friends are. Having moved around a lot they do not really have a home. Their parents do not live in their hometown, though they ended up there. No place to have the feeling of comfort I felt when crossing into my hometown. So home is where friends are, like family.
This brings up another view of another friend: Family is not necessarily biologically determined (an easy idea considering adoption and other situations) but consists of friends on a foundational level. For those who have no family, or, not good relations with them, this makes sense to me. Providing that feeling of family that is missing on other, more traditional/mythological/romantic, levels.
A friend died recently and I went to her memorial service. This was the mother of one of my high school best friends. The memorial really felt like a class reunion as there were many classmates that Barb had affected over the years. For a small group of us it was like a family reunion. A group of five of us who were all really close through most of high school and some going back to elementary, middle school, and college also. We live in two countries, and three different states now. We keep in touch sporadically since high school; some of us are closer than others on a frequency basis. But it really felt like a family reunion. (Another aside: Barb’s claim to fame for me is that she is the one that taught me the importance of hugs. Required learning I think!)
So, what is home to me, what is family?
I don’t really have a home country in the feeling sense. I am, and always will be, American. I have Canadian citizenship also but only to make life easier and to vote the bastards out. I have some Canadian accent words, but I still translate Junior into grade eleven, for those Canadians in the room. I am still American. It is very difficult to be so with trump and my republican friends turning the country into a fascist state but being American, in my usage, is about cultural assimilation as a child of the 60s. It is not about borders or geography or political parties.
I do have a home that I live in. It belongs to my covivant. It is home in the sense that I live my life in it, around it, and from it. I was thinking about house and home. When I grew up as a little kid, I was home as much as any child of the 60s was – ‘be home for dinner’ or ‘when it gets dark’. Due to circumstances outside my control, I spent high school and college out of the house as much as possible. Those who know me know why this was—just personality clashes, nothing more nefarious. It made home a place but not an overly comfortable place. At this point in life ‘home’ was attempted by me at my friend’s houses—but not home in any nostalgic or emotional sense. I had a bedroom I could be in that was mine and private, but I do not think private is the issue at home. One could discuss the idea that a lack of privacy is part of being home. Is a lack of privacy a way that home and family can know you and help you? I did own a house once which was home—mostly—at least after the divorce. Rentals can be a home, but I am thinking that it may then depend on friends and family.
So, are my friends right? Is the idea of home about people and not about place? Certainly family is about those who care about you, not just about those biologically related to you. Parents earn respect, it is not a biological given. However, most of the people I know that dislike their parents would rather have a relationship with them on some level than none at all (certainly the case between me and my dad). But this is hardly the standard one wants to consider as ‘family’ with its connotations of connection, friendship, caring, help, guidance, etc.
Google AI has this in response to a list of words related to family:
“Words related to the feeling of family evoke a sense of safety, deep affection, and belonging. These terms span from the warm bonds of shared history to the comforting, unconditional support found in close-knit relationships: Closeness and Affection; Intimacy; Togetherness; Fondness; Belonging and Support; Kinship; Supportive; and Belonging.”
There is nothing on this list that cannot be equally true of friendships. Friendships can be fluid, as can families, except for the biological connections. Relationships between people are inherently fluid. Closeness comes and goes. Conversation with a good friend seems to start where it left off no matter how long the separation, family connections can be the same, if there was a good connection to begin with.
Both of my children have created their own family groups. Friends and some relatives that they cherish as family. The reason began when I was born and then was exacerbated when I got married. I do not fault them, or myself, as there is no single fault to point at. I know that I am privileged to be in both of their family groups.
There is no actual conclusion here. It is an open question and there is no resolution to these questions: what is home, what is family? But surely, food for thought. Feel free to comment.
Hark 