Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Feels like home

Your friend Nelson lives in Thailand?

Yep. It was Tokyo for three years prior to Bangkok. It's just lately I've noticed he's calling it 'home'.

"How long does it take before it starts feeling like home there?" I ask.

"Home is where your shit is."

I disagree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Home started out sitting next to you in Ms. Meinhardt's divided second and third grade class at Atwood Elementary. Home was my yellow Snoopy pen which you stole outta my desk and still haven't returned. :)

Home expanded for both of us when my family moved in kitty-corner to yours in a tiny, magical cul-de-sac across from the high school.

Home was gathering up all of us adults and kids for lunch and games on the weekends: Trivial Pursuit, Boggle and Euchre.

Home was our Moms dividing perennials and consulting on weeds; growing healthy kids and gardens together.

Home was your sister Kyra - the human burrito - rolled up in our big family room rug and Mom walking in right at that moment.

Home was riding bikes to the 'circle' and long walks to the pond.

Home was kickball and Frisbee and football in the side yard.

Home was your Mom driving us to school in the mornings - her big brown car always smelled like chocolate for some reason.

Home was trips to Harsens Island in the summer: swimming, watching the giant freighters float by, more games, and napping in the car on the drive home with our sweaty sun-burned legs sticking together in the back seat.

Home was your giant box of Legos. And sounds of your trombone echoing across the street.

Home was feeding your guinea pigs - CB and Mrs. CB - during your family vacations.

Home was (finally!) the RV's back in the driveway! And stories and souvenirs from your long summer road trips; a silver charm for my bracelet from Washington, D.C.

Home was your Dad's ham radio in the basement.

Home was me waiting in the foyer at your house before school, checking out your shoe box diorama and saying "Looks like he's taking a piss" right as your Mom walked in.

Home was building forts in the summer and ice skating in the winter.

Later, home became so far away for both of us - far from everything we knew.

It was Chicago and Kalamazoo and Washington, D.C. and Palm Beach and Carlsbad and Palm Springs and Maui and Saint Martin and anywhere else we've managed to find each other.

Today home is "If you're gonna shake your ass, move to a bigger room."

Talking about poop. Sharing music. Lunchtime margaritas. Shopping at Target.

And "It's Adagio for Strings, ya dumbass."

Today home is whenever, wherever we are together. Home is today.

Home is here, for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Feels Like Home - Bonnie Raitt
I am reading: The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein
And I am: Home

7 comments:

Susan said...

Home is still the split level on Prairie Ave. where, blindfolded, I could make my way around the entire place, all the while narrating details of each and everything I touch and breathe in.

I have adapted to change with the ebb and flow of life.....but it still doesn’t sit well within me.

I am thankful that my Momma still lives in my childhood home, so when things get hectic I always know where I can run.

651

DewMama said...

Home is where Gromit is :)

Happy Birthday, Grommie!!!!!

We have a box of Bark Avenue Bakery treats ready to send to you!
Love Zoey and Toby

Anonymous said...

That was a nicely written piece Hedy.
I would only add the old time...
--Home is where the heart is--
Love you
Gromit
Bark Avenue -- Mmmmm

Anonymous said...

home is where the fart is

the dilf said...

Funny...I live in Minny..from the clem...but still feel like East Lansing is Home. Never feel better than walking the MSU campus. So much of my life was formed by my 4 yrs there.

Posolxstvo said...

Home is where you are most safe and comfortable. Where you can just forget about the rest of the world, if only for a little while. For me, home isn't a town, or even a whole building necessarily. Before I was married, home was my bedroom or dorm room. Now home is my house, but not my sons' or daughter's rooms -- oddly.

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed reading this today. The part about growing healthy kids & gardens together. I miss Lana all the time, but I miss her more at this time of year. Thanks for writting this Hedy. Love you, Mom