Sometimes I am unsure of the reason but I have never felt like I have had a home. I have never had my heart pull me to one place over the other. Whether it was me leaving for camp as a child or moving to a new place on my own, I always knew I wanted to go back to my family but never thought of it as home. I never lived where my parents grew up but throughout my life I have felt more at home there than anywhere else. For whatever reason I couldn't find home no matter how hard I tried.
I find it sad to think that I have grown for twenty-five years, I have made memories, I have had my heart broken, I have experienced life and yet never felt at home. I clearly remember my Dad teaching me to ride my bike down my childhood street, falling again and again, running home to tell my Mom that Dad let me fall and having her clean up and kiss my cuts and bruises...that should be home. I remember waking up Christmas morning to my very own big-girl bike and a go-go puppy in the very same year and screaming with sheer joy at the unexpectedness of it...that should be home. I remember pulling out of my parents driveway in my new car and hearing them yell at me to drive safe and buckle up, proudly smiling big for all the pictures...that should be home. I remember my fathers tears as he dropped me off at treatment and my parents worried faces as I arrived back, without any questions I was welcomed back to sleep, to stay, to heal...that should be home.
After all these years of searching, after all the memories I have collected along my road, I believe I have finally found home. As I flew back to Calgary the other day I felt a rush of tears and joy flood my soul as the airplane landed me safely back, I searched out the window wondering what my heart was feeling and it was then that I realized I was looking at my home. I am unsure of why it took so long to get here but I have arrived. I have thought about this a lot these past few days. I have wondered if it is because my heart didn't allow me to fall in love with a home for fear I would one day lose it, or if it was because I never lived somewhere where I really wanted to be. I wonder if it was me being angry for all these years having to leave behind my life as a kid and move to a new town only to start all over. But after a lot of reflecting I have realized it is because I have never quite felt at home in my heart. I have never searched long enough for me or felt content enough with where I was at either emotionally or spiritually or actually allow myself to rest somewhere physically. As cliche as it sounds home really is where the heart is and for the first time in my life I have found it. I am home and I am thrilled to be here.
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