The Long Way Home

In many of us is a restlessness to journey to the new and shiny. But how do you know when it's time to come home?

There was a time when I thought I’d never leave Missoula.

When I first landed there at age twenty-four, I knew little of who I wanted to become—and feared that the little I actually was wasn’t enough. I did know that I was a sister, and that I’d lived too far apart from mine for too long. She’d traversed improbable latitudes north from our Southern Calif…