Home Is…

Home is where the Heart is

…Or so the saying goes. 

Tonight I made a third trip to my home town in less than a week. It is about a two hour drive – with one pit stop – and we do it quite regularly, but not this regularly! This week had it’s own reasons but aside from that, the drive this evening got me thinking about home. What exactly is a home? And better yet, where is my home?

As I pulled onto the familiar back road I grew up on and spent 22 years of my life, there is an uncontrollable feeling of, home. I’m home. I hear the pings & tings of the gravel hitting my car. I see the familiar trees, creeks, and bushes on either side of the road. Nothing has changed much. The neighbour is obviously still just as obsessive about keeping her grass cut as she ever was. Fields of hay have been cut and some baling has begun (my allergies LOVE this!). Things are, generally speaking, the same as they always were when I was here, when I climbed those trees and explored those creeks, caught frogs & ran from the snakes; when this was my home.

Back then it was simple, home was all I knew. It was where I lived and where I had lived my entire life. But now the lines aren’t as clear. I don’t live here any more but it feels like home. And where I do live, well it feels like a place more so than a home.

Where I live now (and have for 10 months now!) feels like a holding place. It holds my stuff. It is a place where we eat and sleep from Monday to Friday but it is rare to find us there on a weekend. Our lives outside of school just aren’t in this place. We are constantly leaving to be with our friends and family whether the kids are visiting their dad’s for the weekend or I’m visiting boyfriend for a weekend. If home is where your heart is then Waterloo is not my home. My stuff is in Waterloo, but not my heart.

When I started the routine task of packing & loading the car, the kids asked where we were going. Without even thinking I answered, “Home.” Of course their reaction was one of confusion considering we were standing in our own living room in our own physical home. And then of course my daughter grilled me about homes: new homes, old homes, where will our next home be, etc. Here is where is gets even murkier – my physical home isn’t my home, and my old home feels like home BUT this is not where I want to live (couldn’t pay me to live there actually!) 

So I guess for now, home is wherever I make it. I do hope to find that place where my heart is and maybe when I do I’ll buy one of those corny wall hangings…….      



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