Tuesday, 29 May 2012
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Home Is Where The Heart Is
Since moving out on my own I've discovered something about myself. My sense of home doesn't resonate in my writing, that's just a place I go to when I'm feeling my absolute worst and need to expunge those ill feelings. My sense of home doesn't come from the people I'm around on a daily basis, nor is it located in some far away city (read: Chicago). My home exists wherever my father and brother are, whether together or apart. That's where home truly is. That's where my heart truly is. It's taken me twenty-two years to develop a sense of identity for my home, but I know I finally have one. That's all that matters.
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Comments (6)
Family comes first
That's great that you came to that realization about home being where family is. Home is a different thing for different people. Best wishes going forward, with this new realization.
@justjase - thanks
@MyHomeIsWriting - welcome!
I seem to have different aspects of what I consider home, with the complete picture being something of an unobtainable concept. Ideally, it would be my entire family living out in west Texas or north central Texas. Mom and Dad would still be teachers and my siblings and I would still be in school.
Having the people present gets me very close to feeling like I'm home, but not completely. Having the location right isn't enough, either. The combination makes it very close, but because it's not in the past anymore, it just doesn't feel the same.
I probably should use that realization to move forward and forge a new sense of what home means, but it's hard to shake the feeling that the one I grew up with is something that won't be coming back.
@democrab - I get where you're coming from. Much as I want to say my home resides where my father and brother are, and in some sense it does, I still have ties to that place, that memory where I grew up, because that truly was home. I felt safe. I'm not safe anymore, and never will be again, not in the way that I was when I was naive and innocent. That's what I want more than anything, that was home more than anything: innocence.