Yesterday morning, my daughter Eliza asked me about the origin of the word nostalgia. I told her I didn’t know the origin, but I’d always loved the reference to a wistful longing for the past.

Then came last night, which was the last time that we would all be together as a family in our house. Sitting around the dinner table, I told Eliza I was feeling nostalgic.

She told me that after asking me about it, she looked it up. Nostalgia is formed from two Greek roots, nostos, return home, and algia, pain. Literally, nostalgia means homesickness.

Turns out what I was feeling last night was not nostalgia, but the aforementioned wistful longing for the past, coupled with massive gratitude for this house, which has served as the perfect frame and space for us to grow. I realized, looking at my family around me, that I will miss this house, but not our home, because home will be moving with us.