Home.
It may be my favorite word, brimming with positive associations.
I know this isn't true for everyone. Many do not have happy memories of the home where they spent their younger years. And many do not have pleasant thoughts of the home of their adult years.
But I do.
Home to me means acceptance and welcome and safety. Home means good food, a clean bed, and warmth on cold winter days. Home means smiling faces and hugs and great storytelling.
In my mind, home conjures up visions of sitting around the table after a meal, talking with people I care about. Home brings to mind holiday celebrations. Home summons shared moments -- both happy and sad. Home means belonging. It's a word with deep meaning.
I think these feelings are why baseball's home plate has that name. I think it's why the main page of a web site is sometimes called the home page. It's why the cross-stitched "Home, sweet home" is iconic. (The folks who coined the names "Home Depot" and "The Home Store" knew all this.)
Home is one of those transcendent ideas -- utopian, ideal, resplendent with comfort.
Home -- the place we all long to be.
3 comments:
Funny that I also think about your home that way. In some ways it is sad to be leaving the country, but in most ways it is fun to see the world. I hope that you had a good weekend with your son.
I'm sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket for my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought's escaping,
Home where my music's playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
-Paul Simon
...visions of sitting at the table after a wonderful meal, seeing rolling napkin rings landing in iced tea glasses and sticks of butter...
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