Home is truly where you leave your heart; the problem? I haven't felt at home anywhere in a number of years. Bolted to the ground yes, at home no. Rarely through the years have I felt that I was home but the feeling is beginning to return.
The short kid and I have been through a lot of changes recently and it is becoming increasing evident that the two of us are our home. The fact that the physical location changed did not change the fact that we our what makes the home; the space simply effects how we react to it. The surroundings and happenings have an affect on how we feel.
Despite the fact that staying home has been the norm on more than one occasion for various reasons there comes a time when we both begin to feel claustrophobic and have no choice but to go out and experience the fresh air. Inside we require room to move around. We do not need a mansion but we do need breathing room. Small and cozy has its limits.
Home is where we go to feel at peace, relaxing in front of the television at day's end. It is a sign that all of the expectations of the world are on the back burner for the duration, or at least until the sun rises again. Decorating is something that we enjoy and while I do not have the things that I spent so long gathering anymore or even pictures of my children to hang on the walls we are preparing to decorate our new space.
The process is going to take some time but I know that together we can bring touches of home here to this new place. It would seem that I have roots and they run deeper than I ever imagined thanks to a man that once made sure I was always at home. I miss that man but his memory lives on and the short kid is destined to hear stories of him until she is sick of them. They are testimony to unconditional love and what truly makes mere structures homes.