Even now, people still ask me if I'm going 'home' for Christmas, by which they mean my parents' house, not knowing I haven't had parents for over 10 years. It makes me wistful to read this, because I've never had that slow process of moving away, of finding bits of my old self I'd forgotten and buried in a drawer. Instead there was just 2 days of clearing a house, making snap decisions about which little trinkets I wanted to keep, and then 'home' was always wherever I lived at the time, and nowhere else.