…but I guess that depends on what your definition of home is.
At the naive age of 18 I flew from my parents nest where I’d enjoyed all the comforts of home and then some, such as a home cooked meal 7 days a week; a free laundry service; a 24-hour taxi service affectionately called ‘Dad’ and an unlimited bank fund coincidentally also known as ‘Dad’. And now, after moving around countless times and spending the past two years living abroad, I find myself back under my parent’s roof.
But the experience is so much different this time around. Not only because I’ve done a lot of growing up; learnt to pay my own bills; figured out that not doing my laundry for a month will leave me with nothing but my PJ’s to wear to work; mastered the art of driving and finally got a license; realised that a shoe budget does not constitute a lifestyle budget and other important ‘adulty’ things. But, also because times have changed and so have my parents.
Of late I’ve been confronted with the reality that while I went about my life and did my growing up, my parents also grew older and so the dynamics of our relationship has changed. With my parent’s future looking very different to mine, the old timers have decided to sell up and move into a cosy little home for two (me being the third wheel…Eeek!) and this made me think about where my home would be.
To put things into context, I have never lived anywhere else in my entire life, aside from the 5 year growing up period that is. So this, is what I would normally refer to as home. This is where my first childhood memories were made, where birthday parties were held and Christmas presents are unwrapped. This is where I learnt to crawl, then walk, then fall and get up again. This is where the best cakes are made and where you can smell mum’s home cooking the minute you walk in the door.
This is home to me, or at least it was. Although I’ll be sad to let go of so many memories, I got to thinking lately about what home really means. To me it’s a place I feel loved. A place I feel safe and secure and a place where there’s an endless supply of tea. A place where comfort is key and tears are shared in equal measure with laughter.
There’s nothing like the feeling of coming home and since home is where the heart is, I guess my home is universal. There’s a little bit of my heart all over the world, a little bit of me that I’ve shared with those I care most about and that they in turn keep safe until we meet again. Home is never very far away for me and every time I see my loved ones that little piece of my heart beats faster and lets me know that I am home.