What does “home” mean to you?
Growing up, it was the place that Mom and Dad lived. More than that, it was the community that we
lived in with Grandmother and Granddaddy next door, cousins just down the road,
and church not far beyond. It all
combined together in our hearts and minds to create a place we felt safe in, a
place that gave us confidence to grow up to be the adults we became, a place
that supported, loved, and welcomed us no matter whose front door we happened
to show up at as we went about our daily lives.
It was a feeling as much as it was a place... a feeling of comfort and
familiarity. It was a good place for
kids to grow up.
A few days ago, my brother sent me a message... something that had crossed
his mind as he went about his job, which often takes him outside in different
parts of the county. I found it reminded
me of what “home” meant to me after I had grown up, left home to start my own
family, and often found myself moving from one part of the country to
another. “Coming home” was a special
time. It grounded me, renewed me, and
always lifted my spirit.
Here's the message my brother sent me: “The
other day while crossing a church yard a familiar feeling came across me and it
occurred to me that it was a good feeling. It was comfortable but it was deeper
than surface comfort. It was safety and confidence but it was more sure than
safety it was more profound than confidence. Then it hit me this feeling was ‘home’... because home is not a place
that happens to share an address with your current abode. Home is a place that always accepts you and never turns you away. Home is more than the place that you
happen to share an address... It’s more than a place that you belong; it's a
place that belongs in your life. It
never judges you, threatens you, or manipulates. You may not have had this or
you may still live there. You may be remembering it now, but one thing is
certain, we all need it. My hope for you is that you find it and never lose it.
Hold home in your heart.”
We all have those “deep thought” sort of moments from time to time. They sometimes catch us by surprise as if
someone tapped us on the shoulder and said “Hey, notice this!” or “Remember
this?!”... and we pause for a moment, and let the thought melt into our soul...
drinking it in as if it’s a cool drink of water on a blistering hot day. We
ponder its meaning, and wonder why that occurred to us at that particular
moment of that particular day, as if it were some signpost on the path of Life
itself.
I’ve lived away from my childhood home for more years than I’ve lived here,
coming back from time to time to visit and catch up with family goings-on. Always it seemed to me to be a little piece
of paradise, a place I could truly relax and just rest from the busy life of
raising three kids on my own and holding down a good job. It was better than a
vacation because there was nothing to plan, no schedule to meet, no places we
had to go... just relax, turn the kids loose in the back yard, and renew family
connections as we sat, sipped sweet tea, and told tall tales of our adventures
since last we saw each other. There was
always lots of kidding around and laughter, always more food than anyone should
eat, and a never-ending quantity of hugs and reassurance that all the current
troubles of the day could and would eventually be resolved. It was a place where I could renew my
strength in the battle we all call Life.
It was a renewal of spirit, and I always came away refreshed and ready
to hit the daily grind again.
Now that I’ve moved back home, I have to remind myself from time to time
what a paradise of respite this place was to me for all those years. The familiar... the daily sights and smells
and places... we become blind to their beauty and what they mean to us when we
see them all the time. I’ve lived at the
North Carolina coast with its rolling dunes and soothing waves. I spent many years surrounded by the Blue
Ridge Mountains with its lore and ever-changing beauty of nature, and yet more
years practically next door to Mickey Mouse.
I’ve lived in the gorgeous Pacific Northwest with the tall deep green of
the spruce trees, and in the ideal weather of Southern California with its
eternal breezes coming off the Pacific Ocean bringing perfect temperatures year
‘round. And always... always... after awhile, those places became
“normal”. It was hard to remember to
notice the beauty and wonder of that particular area of the country. Home was always where I lived at the time...
but Home was always that special
place in south-central North Carolina, where worries ceased, where true
relaxation began, were love was never-ending, and laughter was always abundant. It was a place I came for comfort, relief,
and a deep abiding sense of safety.
“Home” can mean so many different things... it can be a place lost in time,
or the place you are now... it can be the beginning of your journey through
Life, or the end destination. It can be
a feeling, more than a place... wherever you hang your hat, the saying goes...
or a place that you have never been, but know beyond certainty that it exists
somewhere, if only you can find it. And
sometimes it sneaks up on you at the most unexpected times. There are places I’ve lived that felt like
home from the first day I was there, and there are others that, even after
living there for years, never felt like home.
Oliver Wendell Holmes said that home was a place where “our feet may leave,
but not our hearts.” I think that about
sums it all up. Home exists in our
hearts first and foremost... sometimes that’s the only place it exists because it only exists in
memories or might-have-been’s. Sometimes
going back to a “place” doesn’t mean going back home... it has become just
another place over the years, familiar somewhat, but not the same as what we remembered. Those are the unfortunate ones... as for me,
I’m one of the fortunate ones. Home has changed, but I can still sit
on Mom’s back deck and remember the days, the people, and the feelings, and
know, beyond question, “I am Home!”
“The ache of home lives in all of us,
the safe place where we can go as we
are
and not be questioned.”
~ Maya Angelou ~
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