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The Feel of Home

December 9, 2010

Do you ever come across someone who just feels right? There is an instant connection, a tiny spark of trust and joy all at once. Those people are rare in my life, but they are there. Some I talk with once every blue moon, but it’s like we didn’t have any time between our talks. Some I see every day. These rare and special people in my life, well they feel like home. I can be myself with them, whether a good day or bad. I never worry about how my house looks or what I’m wearing. I can just be.

When I think of my favorite place to be, I think of home. I’m a homebody no doubt about it. And, when I’m with people who feel like home, then I feel centered and good. It’s taken me most of my life to realize just how important home and being reminded of home is to me.

I came across a photograph of my Grandfather who is no longer with me. Everything about him made me happy. He smelled like chocolate and he had an easy smile. He was quiet and intelligent. I loved him deeply. Just seeing that photograph made my senses awaken. I didn’t feel sad. I felt happy because his memory reminds me of home. I realize after these few years of living, that home is truly the heart. It’s not a physical building where my stuff is. It’s so much deeper than that. It’s where the living and the dead reside to remind us to live life and to feel joy. Home is where the heart is, as the saying goes, and it’s true.

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