HOME?

When I visit my mother, I spend time in the flat of my grandmother, who has unfortunately passed away. Being there is like travelling back in time, back to my childhood. Almost nothing has changed since then. Everything is still there. The old wallpaper from the 60s and 70s is still on the walls. The furniture is still in its usual place. Time seems to have stood still for me there. I can still feel my grandmother's presence there. I used to travel a lot and get around. I lived here and there for a few years. I can never stay in one place for a long time. My grandmother always said: "Home is the nicest place". Now I often think: maybe she was right? Maybe I'll find a home some day? Where I will stay forever? Maybe back to the place where I grew up as a child?