Our first "home" in Brooklyn, NY |
Americans love their clichés about home.
Home is where you hang
your hat.
Home is where you lay
your head.
Home is where the
heart is.
There’s no place like
home.
My definition of home has been gradually evolving over the
last several months. For five years,
without question, I would have said that home was Reno , NV . Reno
is where we lived. Reno is where everything we owned in the
world was at the time. Reno is where we own a house.
Then we packed up our stuff to moved to Mexico . We put everything we could possibly cram into
our little SUV and the rest we put in storage in Reno . We
lived with family and friends for about two months. We moved our lives to Mexico .
While we were visiting Reno
over the holidays a friend at church started to say welcome home and then stopped.
Do you still call this home? I paused for a moment. Yes, I
still think of this as home. But, why?
Home is where you hang
your hat. Sure, a lot of our stuff
is still in Reno , but the most important items –
the ones we couldn’t live without are in Mexico .
Home is where you lay your head. I admit I’m pretty
attached to my own bed, but the bed I’m currently sleeping on is not the same one I
slept on in Reno .
Home is where the heart is. Well, there are actually
little pieces of my heart all over the place.
There’s a piece in Maryland
where I grew up and where my in-laws still live and graciously let us stay from
time to time. There’s a piece of my
heart in Texas
where the majority of my extended family lives and I have so many wonderful
childhood memories. There’s a piece in
Pennsylvania where I went to college, grew into an adult, and met five amazing
girlfriends whom I know I will have for the rest of my life (they currently
hold pieces of my heart in Pennsylvania, Indiana, Colorado, and Georgia). There’s a piece of my heart in Brooklyn , NY
where Dave and I lived for the first year of our marriage. There’s a piece of my heart in Reno where we lived for 5
years, my parents live, we still have many friends, and Eli was born. And there’s a piece of my heart in Mexico where
I’m currently living and growing. The
list goes on.
There’s no place like
home. If my home is in so many
places, how can there be no place like home?
In the end I’ve come to realize that home is wherever I’m known and
loved. It’s wherever I am with friends
and family and most importantly with Dave and Eli. It has nothing to do with the stuff I own and
is not tied to any specific place.
Laurie Perez | January 9, 2012 at 12:59 PM
Great post Abby and so true. There are pieces of my heart all over the place too, many that you named, and your blog made me think about them with affection. Our relationships are so valuable and precious. Thanks for reminding me so poetically.
Abby | January 9, 2012 at 1:39 PM
Thanks, Laurie! I'm glad I was able to give you a chance to look back on them.
Lauren | January 9, 2012 at 7:33 PM
Great post, Abby. I loved reading it. I know how you feel. For me, home is where James and Isa are, but it doesn't make it any easier living outside of my comfort zone and missing family in the states.
Abby | January 9, 2012 at 8:18 PM
Thanks, Lauren!
TBunting | January 19, 2012 at 8:48 AM
Abs - makes me miss you so much! i found this quote on pinterest - home is where your husband is...and i completely agree. Love you friend. If you're free this afternoon hit me up on skype. xo
Burton | January 25, 2012 at 6:24 AM
Wow...good one