The Wizard of Oz was more than a tradition at my house growing up; it was a staple as necessary as dinner.

Almost every night, I would insert the VHS tape into our VCR (remember those days?) and we would start the movie where we left off, continuing until the end of dinner, then stop it and wait until the next night. I was always disappointed when the tape reached the end because I never fully understood the meaning of the movie’s end. Personally, I would have much rather that it ended with another munchkin musical number than some advice from Dorothy’s uncles. “There’s no place like home” seemed like a beautiful, yet obvious statement to me. Of course there was no place like home, now bring in the Lollipop Guild.
The more I travel, the more I fully understand the ending quote of The Wizard of Oz. There is nothing like that first welcome back hug in the airport, no conversation like the one in the car ride home, no meal like the first one you eat at your own kitchen table, no shower like the one you take before putting on your favorite pajamas and snuggling into your own bed, and certainly, there is no place you will ever see like home.

There are several times when the comfort and happiness of home lure me into wanting to prolong my stays, into contemplating postponing my leave by a few weeks or a month…or at all. The thing is, that travel is imperative to the experience of home. As Herman Melville eloquently explains at the beginning of Moby Dick, people understand experiences in comparison with other experiences. The definition of hot would not exist if someone had not first felt cold. The comfort of home would not exist if one has not experienced the discomfort of being away.

There are many times in my travels where I wish I could click my heels together and instantly return to my home. However, it’s the miles between and the hugs at the arrivals gate that make you understand that there really is “no place like home.”