My parents fell in love with each other. A bond so tightly woven, many thought it would last the test of time. They created a happy humble home for my sister and I to grow up in. Surrounded by love and appreciation and though we didn’t have a lot of money, we had what most families desired. Communication, Openness, Honesty, Understanding, Compassion and Support.
We shared so much of our lives with others as we battled heartache together. We came out on top, as always. But some where, it crumbled into pieces right in front of us.
My dad went away to college to persue a different career path, leaving us all behind. We understood he would be returning. Therefore we didn’t mind his departure. It later turned out to be a marital separation. That’s when the bubble popped.
So much changed in a month.My sister and I couldn’t process it fast enough in order to cope with the chaos. All we wanted was for our parents to be happy. To go back to that place where sunsets and lightning storms relaxed our parents. When the smell of dinner cooking and the sound of my dad’s tires hitting the dusty gravel road we lived on, meant all in the world was good. When we laughed about the thing’s we did in a day and watched TV together. When the nightmares would woke us up and we could run to our parent’s room and climb into bed with our dad. His big strong arms kept the monsters at bay.
Home went missing. Home must have traveled to another family because it was no longer with us. Home had eluded us. Until we find our Home in the world, I don’t think my family will be satisfied. It feels like we are on the quest to find it though.
I might have something similar enough to Home. A place where I can watch my children giggle with each other on the couch as dinner is being cooked, the buzz from our TV blaring as my cats watch the tree’s from the window sway in the windy rain. When my soon-to-be-maybe-one-day-husband wraps his arms around my tired shoulders, I’ve realized it’s only then that I know in my heart, Home found me.