We can never go home again because home is not a place. Home is childhood.

Instead of a place, a house, the good old days, or some bygone era, we long for the carefree years of childhood when we were truly free - free to play, explore, and create. A time when rules were fair, because fairness mattered to us, and we made our own rules. A time when we knew who we belonged to and who belonged to us. A time when we had no money, and everything we needed was free. A time when home was a place where, we never had to knock before we entered. A time when someone wiped our tears away and we felt better. A time when our minds were filled with awe and wonder – and fear felt like fun. A time when someone was happy, just to see us happy. A time when someone took care of us and let us think we were taking care of ourselves – and we really were.

Pity those of us who leave childhood and remain childish. Smile on those of us who leave childhood and take our childlike capacity for awe and wonder with us.