Today is Kansas Day. It is celebrated annually on January 29 to commemorate the anniversary of the state's 1861 admission to the Union. But let’s be honest, for many of us, Kansas Day instantly brings to mind a certain pair of ruby slippers and a young woman who learned something profound on her journey.

Dorothy serendipitously visited Oz, an extraordinary place filled with color, adventure, danger, and dazzling distractions. And yet, after all that wonder, she didn’t choose Oz. She chose Kansas. Gray skies. Familiar roads. Ordinary days. Home.  Her choice reveals something deeply human. We are wired to long for home; not just as a place on a map, but as a feeling we carry in our hearts.  Home is where our relationships settle. Home is where our emotions are allowed to take off their shoes. Home is where we feel safe enough to be exactly who we are.

And grief? Grief shakes that sense of home to its foundation. When someone we love dies, it can feel as though the emotional house we lived in has been swept up by a storm. The furniture is gone. The sounds are different. The silence echoes. Even when we’re standing in the same physical space, it can feel unfamiliar, like we’ve landed somewhere we never meant to be.

If you are grieving this Kansas Day, here’s a gentle invitation: Focus on being “at home,” even without your loved one physically present. That doesn’t mean pretending things haven’t changed. They have. And it doesn’t mean forcing cheer or closure. It means allowing yourself to rebuild a sense of home, slowly, imperfectly, honestly. Home might now look like:

• keeping a ritual that connects you to your loved one
• speaking their name aloud
• letting your emotions come home to you, without judgment
• finding comfort in the familiar rhythms of your day

And perhaps, most tenderly, it means discovering a new way of being at home with them: through memory, love, values, and the quiet ways they continue to shape who you are. Dorothy didn’t return to Kansas unchanged. She came back wiser, softer, and more aware of what mattered most. Grief changes us too, but it doesn’t take away our capacity to feel at home in the world again.

So, on this Kansas Day, whether your sky feels blue or a little gray, may you find moments of grounding. May you remember that even after the storm, the heart knows the way home.