Coming Home

Home sweet home.

There’s no place like home.

Home is where the heart is.

Home.

It shouldn’t be a strange word or a difficult one to understand.  But it is for me.

Growing up I always loved coming home.  I remember coming home from holidays with my family and playing the silly game of “whose house do we want to live in” while driving up our street…we would pass every house leading up to ours and say “hmm, looks okay…” and then of course when we would get to our house the car full would always say “well this house looks good…just perfect…I think we should take this one”.

Every time.

We were home.

And it had everything a home needed.  Laughter and love.

As I am older now, and I have had my life shaped by many different experiences, I have a strange connection to what home means.  I own a house but it does not quite feel like home. I think my struggle comes because I know what home should feel like…I have travelled to many places where I just get it.  It feels right, like a big invisible hug…I know I could live there quite easily and be happy.  I don’t feel like that when I come home.  I am proud, and happy, that I have accomplished home-ownership but it doesn’t have that special “home” feeling….I don’t drive through my neighbourhood and think when I see my house “just perfect…I think I should like to live here”.  It could be because all the houses on my street look exactly the same or it could be that I don’t have the love of  a family waiting for me to walk in the door (family that doesn’t have fur or tails that is…)

I believe that home, for me, is not about my possessions or the house I live in…it is the feeling of belonging, regardless of where I go…I don’t have to be surrounded by four walls to be home I just need to be surrounded by love and feel at peace.

What defines home for you?  Is it a feeling or is it what is waiting for you when you walk through the door?  What makes your car full want to choose your house over and over again…

Hugs and love

~ Never make your home in a place.  Make a home for yourself inside your own head.  You’ll find what you need to furnish it – memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things.  That way it will go with you wherever you journey ~

Where did your story begin?
Where did your story begin?

Published by

upsidedowncanuck

Adventurous....not as funny as I think I am. I care about things. Mostly living things. Some non-living things. I believe in education and strongly believe that you are not fully educated until you step outside of your own little world. The brave may not live forever but the cautious don't live at all.

One thought on “Coming Home

  1. Home is my family, it’s a feeling of belonging to a place, of having a level of ease with my surroundings that requires no effort.

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