home

July 12, 2011 at 11:14 pm 2 comments

Another small, simple word – yet it’s spilling over with meaning.

In sign language, you touch the side of your face near your mouth and eyes. Home. It’s where we eat and sleep.

But oh, so much more than that.

Where is home for you?

Yes, my home is the place with the big kitchen and my sunny yellow bedroom with the pink-polka-dot curtains.

But when I’m running along the beach, toes grabbing the sand and eyes drinking in the ocean – I know I’ve come home.

Home will always be 230 and 219 Atherton Hall – two small dorm rooms crammed with memories and laughter (and, let’s be honest, my irrational tears), midnight dance parties and cracker crumbs.

But really? Home is in the hearts of the people I love.

I’m home when I’m with you.

I know I’m home when I can look in your eyes and you let me breathe. You accept me at my wackiest and my bluest, and I accept you. And my heart does a little dance whenever I see you, my friend.

I’m lucky. For my home is really all over the world. It’s in Pennsylvania and California and England, Tennessee and Virginia, Carolina and New York City and Chicago.

“Then I saw your face, across the street – and my heart was home again.” (Celtic Woman/Josh Groban)

What a perfect line.

 

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Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

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2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Jessina  |  July 14, 2011 at 6:05 pm

    I love you, just so you know.

    (And yes – you most definitely have a home in England.)

    Reply
  • 2. Joanna  |  July 15, 2011 at 8:49 am

    When I read this, a big smile appeared. I love you muches!

    Reply

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