Home. An idea so elusive to me as of late.
Where is home?
Familiar faces that warm my winters when it's too dreary to go out,
singing by the baby grand piano
as the seductive smells of a home-cooked meal wafts from the kitchen to the living room.
I guess you can tell I feel homesick. My mind wanders to the house projects left unfinished, my clothes, books, and things that left in the drawers and friends that I have not enjoyed the company of for months. And this has been only my 2nd Christmas away from my immediate family.
Then again, even if I was with them, this holiday season still feels different.
You see, I'm not quite sure where "home" is at the moment.
They say home is where the heart is.
My heart feels left behind at my small, cozy, cape cod in the east coast filled with 17 years worth of memories, community and friends.
However, that isn't home anymore. I am adventuring my new chapter of life in Texas. And if home isn't Texas, then the next possibility should be where my parents and sister currently life. However, that doesn't seem to be how "home" works. And it's not for lack of trying. I celebrated Thanksgiving in California this year, but somehow, it lacked the familiar, enveloping, comfortable sense of home.
But, I can't help but feel a little selfish with these musings.
A couple of months ago, I volunteered to help clean up the home of a lady whose house had burned down during the devastating Bastrop fire. She made it out with her life and her dog while every thing that she held dear went up in flames. Nevertheless, she knew what was most important. It wasn't this house where she spent decades in. She even commented how this fire wasn't as bad as when she almost lost her child to an illness several years back. Then, as I worked, my head kept repeating the verse that tells us to store our treasures in heaven where moths and rust can't destroy. What mattered most isn't the physical things in this life - a house, clothes, books and even your geographic location. Let's add on to that lesson the most recent catastrophe where over 1,000 lives were lost and hundreds of homes washed away in my home island in the Philippines. Such a tragedy.
Things like that can definitely straighten your perspective.
I start to think.... I may not be in a familiar place that I can call "home" (and my heart still mourns at that thought), but I do have so much more - shelter, clothes, a good job, people who love and care about me.
I am so blessed.
And when I look back at how I got to this situation where I am far from "home", I recall that this is what I wanted - freedom, adventure, something new and something exciting.
As long as I am safe, secure and have the love of people that matter most to me....
then I know that when I am ready to stop wandering the world,
I'll truly know where "home"is.
