There's no place like home

Last Sunday, the Colts game was obscured by warnings of pending bad weather and the possibility of a tornado. \nThough Indiana was lucky enough to avoid Nature's scourge, unlike earlier this semester, hundreds of families in Tennessee lost their homes and 36 people were left dead.\nI as well am in the process of losing my home, but without the violent winds and total devastation. I'm leaving my old premises in northern Indiana via moving trucks and lots of boxes. Coincidentally enough, I'm heading toward the very state where the tornadoes struck.\nThis has left many in Tennessee and myself pondering: What and where exactly are our homes?\nFor today's generation, it seems a question that though at first simple, is taken for granted. In the past, a home lived on through generations. Births, deaths, names carved in trees; Americana at its finest.\nA home was not only a building, but a location and a community. \nToday, we're free agents. Jerry Rice has gone from San Francisco to Oakland, Jordan is now in Washington, and we no longer play for our home teams.\nAsking "Where are you from?" is followed by histories and epic journeys. We were born here, moved there, settled for a while to study in Indiana. Then consequently, as ambitious young college graduates, many aspire to take the plunge and "go out West," try to make it in New York or travel to Europe to ripen.\nOpportunity seems to take the helm when defining our homes, leaving history on the back burner.\nSo we take our things and travel. \nBut what happens when Nature hits? What happens to a traveling home when suddenly there is nothing to pack up?\nIn Tennessee, and any place where disasters can decimate our belongings, people are left contemplating where indeed their homes truly lie. Pictures are gone; memories. Tools and all personal belongings gone; the present. It becomes a rebirth into the world with nothing, forcing the next step: To ground oneself so that they may keep the life wheel spinning.\nWhen the tools of opportunity go out the window, where do we turn?\nThe Leopper family of Joyner, Tenn., plans to move in with their relatives. They offer one answer: Family. \nHome will not lie in our boudoirs and briefcases but with those who are there to support us. Home becomes wherever rest our kin and our neighbors who are willing to lend their shoulders -- both to cry upon and push towards rebuilding what was lost.\nStill, a final option is offered by the Leopper's cat, Devon. The New York Times reported on this stubborn feline who chooses to remain in the rubble of the Leoppers home. Whether by training or sheer shock, the cat won't even emerge to eat. Ultimately, regardless of motive, it appears as a statement of loyalty. \nHome isn't a place we can escape. Even in shambles, a mere cat can show us that there is no moving away from where we have placed our roots. Neither new opportunities nor disasters can erase the boundaries we have drawn. The rebuilding and mass of movers simply add new foundations and communities to the list. \nFor Devon, and for all of us, our homes will forever remain where we left off.