Home is where the heart is. My home–my family–is my everything. Really, it’s funny I say that, because anytime I decide to move, I purposely make the decision to stay living halfway across the US from where my family is. Honestly, I just think there’s more I need to learn on my own, and that’s going to take some time.
One thing I’ve learned, is about home, and I’m going to share it here.
They say home is where the heart is. Me being my young, dumb, immature self, I always thought of home as a place. A house. A single stationary destination. But, as I’ve learned, that’s not always the case.
While a city or a building can be a home in a way, the real home is people. A person. Someone you love and who loves you. I realized this after I’d spent years chasing the destination-type-of-home. After my mother’s side of the family passed, I moved back to Tennessee thinking there was still something there for me. Shortly after arriving, I realized that wasn’t so. Instead, all I found were dead memories. My “home” was nothing more than an empty shell of what used to be.
Another place where I’d spent part of my life was in Texas. I knew there were good memories there. Memories of me walking my brother to school and having lunch with my mother on the weekends; memories of working all day and eating dinner with my parents and little brothers afterwards. My heart was aching to move back. It seemed the fact that my family had moved to Cali. didn’t quite register with me. All I could see were those memories.
So, I made the 800 mile trip, and moved back “home.”
Though my happiness survived longer in Texas, it wasn’t long before I realized I’d made the same mistake. My family isn’t here; therefore, neither is my home. All I have are dead memories, broken relationships, and an empty shell of what used to be.
Now, I find myself driving past the houses we all used to live in together. I find myself making more frequent calls to Mom and taking more trips out to visit.
I don’t care what anybody says. I’m a Mama’s boy. Big time. At heart, I’m just a child. There’s nothing I love more than being in a house full of family. I love riding bikes with my youngest brother through the suburban neighborhood and getting calls from Mom saying, “It’s time to eat.” I love our trips out to restaurants, our excursions to the beach, and most of all, helping my brother get ready for school in the mornings.
While I could just uproot and go live closer to them, I don’t quite feel like this chapter of my life is over yet. There’s still a few more things I have to do and learn. One day soon though, I’ll actually be home.
“He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home.”
-Johann Wolgang von Goethe
Can anybody relate?
Hope everyone survived Monday. More importantly, I hope your coworkers survived!
Thanks for reading 🙂
^ The song I always associate with home ^