Home

In the midst of packing up the last of the items in our house, I thought of my blog. Still didn’t know what I was going to write, but I thought of titles. I don’t know if it was because I had little sleep on the carpet floor, or if it was just because I was getting my mind off of the reason I was packing my stuff. But song titles started rolling through my head to try and base the next post on. The Ingrid Michelson song are we there yet started to go through my head. The first line was fine, however the second just made me want to forget the song even popped in my head.
I looked around and remember the previous two days. How there were a lot of families that we are friends with, helping load everything we own into two large trucks. The chaos, the heat, the sweat and tiredness that came with. But I also remembered the friendliness, how everyone got along, and even if it was a lot of work, it was fun. Because we were all together. Home really is where the heart is. Unlike Ingrid, I have found my home, and we are not driving around in circles, afraid to call this place our home. I always said, Texas is my home, all my family is there. But all these friendships we have created, all these lives we have been blessed to be apart of, are raw and real. We created them from ground up. No one lead us to these families when we moved here originally. We knew no one, except for my dads boss. So looking around was hard to do, because I didn’t want to break down as they left, even though we are the ones who are really leaving.
I hope I hadn’t offended anyone who noticed I didn’t cry. I hate crying, and despise it when others are around. Some people say its good for you, but I just enjoy making people smile and laugh. That’s why when the last family left, when giving the mother a hug goodbye, I had to give her a quick tango instead of having her tears wash over me. I was sad to be saying goodbyes, even though I know it wont be the last time I am going to be seeing them. I just needed my expression of sadness to come before and after that moment.
So long story summed up, I just basically discovered my heart can have more than one home. Its not in the house that carried so many memories. Its in the memories themselves, the people, the friendship and the life that brought happiness. Of course we always have our home with God, but the homes that he has supplied us with is more than just a structure that can be taken down with wind. These relations that we make are strong, and are what will withstand something like a move. Its what I had to tell myself when we were saying a temporary goodbye. A little bit of comfort when you are leaving your home, to make another one.