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Tuesday, November 26, 2013

home.







Garden State was a pivotal movie from my college years. During one particular stint my freshman year, my best friend and I watched it nearly everyday, laughing until we were literally crying, quoting it at every possible moment. It was quirky and funny in ways that other movies hadn't been, up until that point. I watched it a few weeks back when it was on HBO and a quote resonated with me that I hadn't really noticed from seeing it for the first time, more than a decade ago (whoa).

You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone...You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place. 


I remember fearing this feeling during college. Even feeling it to a small extent--the bustle of where I grew up, of where I became who I am, was eerily quiet now, with my brothers being deployed and off living their own lives. Fearing that I'd never feel home again, that our family of six would never quite be the same. And it isn't at all... I have sisters-in-law now, I have two fiery, adorable nephews and a beautiful baby niece. We've all been "adults" for the better part of a decade. It's the most bizarre thing though, now that I live in Nashville, now that I have a home here, I feel so at home when I am in my childhood house. My parents are the only two there, but it's home. They refer to the guest room as "your room," to me. In no way is it decorated the same, but it's mine. And in all that is unpredictable and daunting and tragic about this life and this world, it's one of the most amazing things, to be able to just go home. I don't know how much longer I'll feel this way, if it has an expiration date or not, but I will savor it for every day that I possibly can.

Do you still feel home when you go home? Or is home more of what you've made for yourself as an adult?

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