Where is Home?

You can have more than one home. You can carry your roots with you and decide where they grow.

~ Henning Mankell

I was born and raised in Houston Texas in turn calling it my home for 59 years.

As you can imagine I have lived in several spaces during that time: apartments, condos, several homes and one penthouse for good measure.

These include the house I was born in and 3 homes where I raised my children and everything in-between.

I recall each space that I inhabited as an adult being filled with a diverse mixture of fabrics, textures, colors, styles, and smells. There was something intoxicating about surrounding myself with the little things I loved the most.

Soft blankets, original artwork, elegant vases, colored rugs, music from all genres, lavender oil spray, scented candles, fresh herbs, and fresh flowers just to name a few.

These elements have never left me and live with me today.

Although each different space I considered my home, it was never the physical structure, it was the energy and the people with whom I shared these spaces.

All these memories were in my hometown where most neighborhoods, landmarks and eateries were in my sandbox of familiar and comfortable.

Some iconic places have been closed or torn down, but their footprint can never be removed.

The Shamrock Hotel (synchronized swimming team), The Astrodome (Elvis Presley), Astroworld (teenage summers), Foley’s Department Store Downtown (worked for 25 years).

And there are so many places that remained intact along with new venues that were a part of my hometown experience:

Ninfa’s on Navigation, Mrs. Baird’s Bakery, Herman Park, Houston Zoo, Alley Theatre, James Coney Island, The Coliseum, and Minute Maid Park.

It was a natural expansion of a booming city changing like a raging river leaving the best and creating more of the best.

I felt like I was in the heart of every evolution of change for my generation.

This was my city – from the inside out.

They say that nobody leaves TEXAS.  I did.

We moved to Portugal 3 years ago and now I look in the rear-view mirror with great admiration and respect for the memories made in every home I shared with my family.

I breathe in what ‘was’ and breathe out what is ‘new’, giving space for new areas of my life to explore.

On our last visit back to the United States, it felt familiar and foreign all in the same breath. There was an eerie sense of holding on and letting go.

Did I leave home? Or am I creating home?

I would guess there is an odd sense of nostalgia when going back to the place you used to live, but chances are those places have changed just as you have.

Or maybe they are nothing like you remember.

Can you ever really go back HOME?

I am learning that HOME is not a place but a feeling.

HOME is where I feel safe, loved, and understood without judgement.

HOME is being with those I love deeply wherever we are.

HOME is where I feel emotionally connected with a true sense of belonging.

HOME is opening my eyes in the morning to a life of humility and gratitude.

HOME is the smell of fresh flowers, lavender on my pillowcases and a home cooked meal.

HOME is where you make it.

The idea of home is clearly a multifaceted concept that holds different meanings for different people. There is no right or wrong here.

Just curious – what does HOME mean to you?