Recently, my father put up his house for sale as the place is a little too much upkeep for he and my stepmother. They will be starting over in a new town a few hours away. This house was the last place my mother lived in before she died. Strangely enough, the sale of the house feels a little bit like losing her all over again. I feel somewhat sad walking through the home and seeing touches of her and knowing that they will soon be forever gone. It feels like another chapter of my life is closing.
I, too, seem to be starting over again. Moving to another new place and feeling very…lost. Just today, I heard a song that stirred melancholy memories and I suddenly had an overwhelming sense of wanting to go “home.” But then the thought came to me “Where is home?”
The home my parents lived in is soon to be gone and because I’m not married, nor do I have a significant other, nor have children of my own, I don’t really have what most people consider a normal “home.” For various reasons, I have moved almost every year for the last 20 years of my life. I have yearned for a place to put down roots and to have a family of my own, but that has not seemed to be in the eternal plan of things. At least not at this point in my life.
I have often wondered why I was called to wander this planet. Why was my life not “normal” like most of my friends and family? I, too, had sought what others had sought: financial stability, love, family and a home of my own where I could raise children, but for some reason only known to Fate and God, that was not my path. I have, at times, thrown myself what I call a “boo-hoo” party where I began to feel sorry for myself.
But then I remember something…
There is an old cliche that goes “Home is where the heart is.” If that is true, then my home happens to be in several places around the world…for I’ve left a part of my heart with the people and areas I love. My home is in the islands of Palau, Guam, and Saipan where I served my mission. My home is in Hawaii where I went to school and fell in love with the culture of a warm, loving, generous people. My home is in Cartagena, Colombia where complete strangers became my adopted family and best friends. My home is in Washington state where I was born and spent much of my childhood and where I made lifelong friendships. My home is in Rotterdam, California, Canada, Boston, New York and several other parts of the world where friends and family live. My home is in England where I have met and made some wonderful relationships that will touch me for the rest of my life. And last but not least, my home is in Utah where I have many memories of family and friends who have graced me with their love for many years.
So I realized that while I may not have a “home” in the normal sense, I have a “home” wherever the people I love are living.
I think this just may make me the luckiest person in the world.