I miss Seattle. A series of circumstances long ago had me leave, but I still get very homesick for it. I am happy here, but I still think of the Northwest as home. Which, I suppose, is a bit odd, as I grew up in the NE.
Oh, well.

My family is where I make it, so it’s a movable feast. Except for my daughter, I’m not related to my family.

I’m happy in my home. I just wish my family members who are scattered to the winds were here too. And yes, the holidays and memories of Christmasses past don’t help any. But I’m kind of numb right now; in a protective cocoon.

I am happy where ever Mrs Squeeky is.

Fluther is my home. I can’t afford to live in my old neighborhood in Jasper National park. At least until I can get one of the golden jobs that require a master’s degree in psychology. Like career counseling or psychological services.

I miss my old house. Mainly because it was finished and decorated.
I just have to keep using my imagination on this gutted wreck. It’ll be beautiful.

I’ve lived in five states and over a dozen cities in my fifty years of life and I’ve never felt more at home than I do where I live now.

1950s Los Angeles, west side over by Manhattan Beach and Playa del Rey.

@Jeruba Where do you want or need to be right now? Where you are or somewhere else?
I’m content where I am right now. I would probably be open to exploring other places.

Both. I miss some past places, and am also happy where I am.

I do miss my home of thirty-something years back in my hometown. I live in another state now.

I have been homesick for my childhood home ever since it was sold when my mother went into the nursing home. I lived there from age 5 till 23 and then again from 35 to 41 while taking care of my mother.
I am already homesick for this home that I shared with my husband. I gotta be out of here by April 1st.

Lately, I’ve been thinking of the home my grandparents owned on the banks of the Hudson River in NY. It was a big Victorian, built around the late 1800’s, and was the summer home of a wealthy person from the city. My grandparents owned the house since the late 1940’s. The woodwork was pristine, the house had a lot of great features like a glassed in front porch, a side porch, a back porch, claw foot tub, glass paned kitchen cabinets, iron radiators, original hardware and fixtures, and the property went down to the river. It also had the great memories of spending a lot of time with my grandmother, who was very nurturing. She did a lot of baking, sewing, crafts, and spent a lot of time teaching me to read, took me a lot of places (along with my friends). I long for the house and the memories. The house was really like a family member. It’s since been modernized and so it would probably make me feel bad to even see it now.

I’m so happy in my new home. We’ve been here for seven months now, after getting out of a terrible situation with a landlord who was very angry and lived in the same building. It got so bad he wouldn’t even look at us when we said “hi”. When both his and our dog were out at the same time, he would yell at his dog and come down to grab him, even though the dogs loved each other and played really well.

Our new house is in a less-perfect location, but it has nice wood floors, a fenced backyard, and lovely neighbours. I thought I’d miss my old house (we were kicked out, so didn’t leave voluntarily), but I only miss the area. Everything else feels better here.

The Holiday’s always bring out times of questioning your place.
For me it is about being with the people that mean most no matter where you are.
I am perfectly contented with my current abodes. Yet as children grow and start to do their own thing will create a yearning for those past memories and places.
Growing up in a tight knit family will always create a miss being around my Mom, my siblings, and my children no matter where they are. Home is where the heart it.

I have everything I ever wanted here, and have lived in this house longer than anywhere I lived before, but I still miss my 100 year old house in Santa Barbara near the beach.
My current house is the traditional “grandma’s house” to all my grandkids who spent their summers and holidays here over the last 30 years, and the two youngest who practically live here.