A little post-tax day reflection

One thing I always find pleasant about the Michigan tax return-filing process is coming up to the definition of "home": "the place you intend to return to whenever you go away".

As someone who tends to over-think things, I always stop and smile when I get here.

For one I love the careful legalese in the definition. When you leave home, or any place for that matter, you have no guarantee you'll return -- the definition doesn't say "the place you will return to". But you can always hope to return, and the definition captures this sentiment -- "the place you intend to return to".

If anything's lacking in this definition, though, I think it's mention of the time frame. Take my hometown of Carrollton, Texas, for instance. My parents still live there, and I hope to visit them for years to come. While I'm there I like to sleep in my old bed and see what's left of the old neighborhood, including the yards and alleyways I used to cut through when I was young, the fields I used to play in and explore, and the houses of old friends where I wasted lazy summer afternoons.

I'd never want to lose that connection. Being in Texas I feel grounded, in touch with who I am and who I was, conscious of the reference point against which I can measure how far (or close) I am to coming full circle and fulfilling purpose.

But all that's obviously long-term stuff -- I only go back to Texas once or twice a year. On a daily basis, I'm happy just to make it back to my apartment, crash on the floor to the sound of the TV, and have a few Baked Lays.

In defining "home," maybe a more useful question to ask is what constitutes "going away". Is that leaving my apartment in the morning or leaving Texas when I was 25?