What is home? Is it the house we’ve lived in much of our life? Is it our town or city or country? Is it things, old familiar things, books you can find on your shelf, familiar kitchen tools, the way the light changes through the day, through the seasons? Is it the view from the kitchen window, or the neighbours passing by on their regular walks? Is it something we can take with us no matter where we go?
Is home in my heart?
Thinkings 
Yes. Your heart is your home.Beautifully written!
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Yes, to all of your questions! I have thought of this often in my life, as my move to NS represented my fourteenth move. Each time I concluded that home is indeed, in our hearts, but also fed and warmed by accumulated memories from the past merging with the present—old friends, new friends, books read and shared in certain locations, music—never the physical structures of “home”. For me, it’s the setting of my home that has always meant a lot. The moment I caught a glimpse of the sea as we drove into Halifax with our two kids (one-year old Chris and three-year old Ken), I felt immediately that this was it, and I hoped it would be so for the rest of my life.