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I wonder when you're coming home, and I strongly suspect others do too. You have touched countless lives with your words and acts, and I am certain that more people care for you than you (let yourself?) realise. There are also various senses of 'coming home', and don't forget that the end of life is, in some senses, itself a coming home, a returning to whatever or wherever we were. 'Is it today, little bird? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be?' (Have you read Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom? I also enjoyed his 'Five People You Meet in Heaven'. Both made me cry, but in a good way - and I say that as one who refuses to read books without a happy ending.)
Remember that you have many, many friends who think about you. And if all else fails, get a dog. (And no excuses - I have a dear friend who runs a dog-sitting and dog-walking service from her home in bonny Gateshead. Preferential service guaranteed!)

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