Going Home
When I go back to where I grew up, I tend to say, “I’m going home.” After all, a lot of my family still lives there and it’s where all my childhood memories were made. It’s where I learned to become a person. The beginning of me.
Most of the corner stores are gone, schools have been re-designed, and none of my old friends live where they once did. Unfamiliar faces and places make it hard to recognize what used to be my every day.
The house still stands and secret play places that only kids with bikes knew about, remain hidden beyond the boundaries of what is new. Of course, some have become supermarkets or parking lots. That train still blows through town late at night lulling you to sleep. Rain, snow, sun, or shine it’s always there. A familiar reminder that some things never change.
Visiting the homes of my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and friends fills my heart with warmth, a sense of belonging, and deep love for family. It even smells the same.
My parents have random articles in the house that have always been there. A quilt, a spoon, a dish towel, a book, and of course the photo albums. Pieces of home.
After a few days something new pulls at me. My mind drifts to my partner who had to stay back to work. Wonder what exactly she is doing right now. She’s so pretty. I imagine our adorable, sweet, little white Chihuahua sleeping in her favorite sunny spot in our apartment. The plants must be needing me, and I wonder if the parrots are still chattering in the palm trees each morning and night!
Suddenly I realize where home is. Not where it used to be, but where I built a new nest. The one that has been holding me lovingly for so long now. The sheets, the pillows, the comfy jammies, and the loved ones who take me for all that I am, who I have been, and that which I will be. The ones who now are my anchor and help me to continue learning to be a person. Always there to remind me how special and important I am. Your chosen family and the life you build together is truly heaven.
They say you can never go home again, and I see what they mean. I’ll never forget where I came from, who I came from, and how much I cherish them. I am eternally grateful to always be welcomed back with open arms, hugs, and happiness! Lucky for a family that raised me with love and security and helped me to be me.
As I sit here now on the airplane enjoying the snacks my auntie gave me, I click my heels three times and say to myself, “there’s no place like home.” It’s my favorite place to be.
