What is home? Where is your home? Is it really just where you lay your head at night? Is it truely where your heart is? How do you know your heart isn't lying? Is it some walls and a roof to keep you covered in the storm?
I went back to my childhood "home" this past week. It was a great time. I don't have many friends there anymore, they have mostly moved away. But it's fun when you do run into someone still living there (or moved away and they are home) at breakfast. It reminds you of everything you left. And sometimes why you left. I spent 20 some years growing up on the Outer Banks. Such an amazing place to grow up. I mean it's the beach!! Who doesn't like spending time at the beach? It's my favorite place to visit, any beach really. For years this was home. I cried the last night in my bed, in my room, in my house. I was leaving for San Fran and my parents were selling our house. It would never be my home again.
They didn't move far. They now live on a lake. I got used to visiting "the lake". As unfamiliar as the house was it was still all so familiar. Maybe because I got to see some of the building? And most of the people that built it were from the beach & were familiar. And now this house has become "my parents house" and sometimes I call it "home". It comes out either way. However, I know I can always lay my head down there.
But now I have my own "home". Here in the triangle. I love my home. It's the first house I've ever owned. It's warm (when I am not pregnant!!) and comfortable. It's where CP and I started our life together. It's where I brought my boys home from the hospital. It's where our busy lives join everyday at the dinner table. It's where I lay my head at night in my big gushy bed. It's where I say my prayers and think about all the blessings in my life. It's where I think about tommorow and dream about the future.
So, I leave you to think; what does home mean to you?