One Day I walked into the kitchen where my mother was standing and said, I want to go home. She shook her head, confused. What do you mean? You are home. I repeated my solemn statement. I want to go home. I didn’t know what I meant any more than she did. All I knew was that the feeling had returned and was growing stronger - the feeling of emptiness, longing, and hunger. Something was calling to me. And the only words I could find to describe it were, I want to go Home.