Home Is Where The Heart Is

Home Sweet Home

I thought going home to Capitan, New Mexico this past Memorial Day weekend would be difficult because of my father's recent death. An anxious, depressed feeling kept building all week long as the date for our visit grew closer, and I even entertained the idea of postponing it to later in the summer.  I just didn't know if I would be overwhelmed by feelings of loss while being there and I didn't know if I were ready to face the reality that my former life, my existence as someone's child, was gone forever. Fortunately, however, I couldn't disappoint my children who love going for long weekends and summer vacations to my childhood home.  That's the wonderful thing about children, you will do for them what you won't do for yourself, and most of the time it ends up being a good thing.

In this case, going to Capitan proved to be a very good thing.  Instead of missing my parents desperately and being sad that they are no longer here with me in person, being home brought back the happiest memories I shared with them growing up.  I didn't feel sad, I felt blessed when I walked through the door.  I felt like the luckiest woman in the world because I had such amazing parents and a truly happy, innocent, loving childhood.  Being home, with the spirit of my parents present in every inch of the house, made me realize that no matter how old I become, where I go, or what I do, I will always take them with me.

By returning home again and again, I will not only share my memories of my parents and my youth with my children, but also create new memories of their childhood with them.  I am grateful that they too, have a place where they can go that is special and connects them to their family history.  I can remember traveling Capitan as a very young child to visit my grandfather and stay at his home, and I know that they will have similar memories of going to their grandparents' house even though the grandparents are no longer there.  Those memories will be place-specific in some instances, as my own are, but they will provide the framework for their own sense of what home means.

In my opinion, home truly is where the heart is, and my heart is with my family--both those that remain and those who have gone ahead. My children will always have a home to go to because I vow to create the same feeling of security, love, positivity, optimism and resilience that my parents instilled in me.  I promise with all that I am to give them as happy and satisfying a childhood as I had.  Those things make a home regardless of where a person ends up because home, or rather a sense of belonging and connection, travels with them.

I enjoyed an amazing weekend.  My sister and I watched old home movies and looked through photo albums with the kids. We told them stories about their grandparents and answered questions about this, that, and the other that interested them.  The sharing made me happy, but more so,  it made me grateful that all the stories we shared were good ones.  Being there this weekend made me realize how truly and profoundly blessed I am and gave me absolutely no room to be sad, depressed or anxious.  They say you can never really ever go home again, but I don't believe that. The truth of the matter is, if you are one of the lucky ones, you never really ever leave it.