Home is…

Recently I made an unexpected trip home…to see my parents.  The reason for my visit was a somber occasion.  One of my Dad’s sisters passed away after a lengthy battle with lung cancer.

 It’s a funny thing…the place we call Home.  For some people their idea of home or going home is associated with the place where they grew up.  For some it is the actual house they grew up in…a place filled with childhood memories.  For others Home is associated with the city or town where they grew up.  They have detailed memories of days gone by…waiting for them around every corner. 

I do not associate home with either the town where I grew up or the house I grew up in …This is most likely due to the fact that my family moved around a lot…There are three distinct houses from my childhood each in a different city and I have wonderful memories from all of them…however, when I think of home none of these places come to mind.  They are just places where I lived when I was growing up. 

I once remarked to a friend that I was going home for the weekend…and I was surprised by her response…she said you mean you are going to see your parents.  I said yes…I am going home.  She shared with me that she no longer considered her parents house or the place she grew up as her home…Home to her was where she currently lived.  Her comment gave me pause and I began to ponder why is it that I still refer to going to see my parents as going home when they no longer live in the house I grew up in…

Even though I have never lived in my parents current home, when I think of visiting them…I always associate it with going home.  They have lived in their home for almost 20 years… but I have no childhood memories of this place.  No memories of late nights giggling with girlfriends or of prom pictures taken in front of the fireplace.  No memories of family movie nights or well deserved time outs or month-long loss of privileges or boys coming by to pick me for a date.   However, it still feels like going home…

It’s because…You see…I associate home with people…for me Home is a feeling!  It is warm and cozy…it is safe and secure…it is my favorite foods in the fridge…it is easy conversations…it is familiar…it is afternoon naps on the sofa, LSU football games on the TV…it is my Dad asking me to get him a glass of tea…it is my Mom whipping up something delicious in the kitchen, it is one of my sisters telling us a crazy story and the rest of us laughing until our cheeks hurt, it is the sounds of my son playing his video games or my husband laying out the plans for his next project…it is the sounds of my family living life together wherever we are…for me, this is Home!

Sometimes you hear people refer to someones death as a home-coming…The bible tells us that God has prepared a place for us…a heavenly home…a home like none we have ever known…the bible also promises that for those who put their faith in Jesus that they will have eternal life…that they will be reunited with those who have gone before them…When I think of my loved ones who have passed from this life to the next…and have been called Home…I never think of the house they will dwell in…I think of all of the family and friends that have already gone home and the wonderful family reunion that they are experiencing…

Home is…where the heart is and for me my heart is always with my family!


Filed under Faith, family, Home Sweet Home, Life..such as it is

6 responses to “Home is…

  1. For sure – Home is where the heart is! Beautiful piece of writing about”home”

  2. You wrote this so beautifully Jeanne, it came straight from the heart, and it made me feel good inside, a nice warm feeling about what home means to each of us.
    You are right – home is where the family is!

  3. I feel as you do…home is where my husband, daughter and 4-legged family are. I do love my house, but only because it’s filled with cozy reminders of warm memories created throughout the last decade-and-a-half. I have felt the same way about every house in which we’ve lived.

    hugs for reminding us…about the real value of…hearth and home.


  4. I agree, home is the people, not the structure. Of course, growing up, we lived in so many houses/cities, that I can’t remember a childhood “home”.

  5. This was beautiful and I completely agree … home is where they are.

    I know that one day, in heaven, my beautiful Grandmother will greet me, wiping pie crust on her apron as she reaches out to greet me, happy to be baking again at the stove that she loved. Behind her, at her table, will be my Dad, Uncle Jarl, cousin Kirk and Grampa .. all enjoying some of her delicious baked goods.

    Mom still lives in the house we grew up in and it smells now as it did then .. of lilacs and Lily of the Valley, Jergens lotion and … pie.

    Sorry for your loss but glad you could reconnect.

  6. I agree, Nola girl. Home is wherever my family is and what a comforting feeling it is, huh?

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