"Home, Sweet, Home"
"You can always go home again."
"Be it every so humble there's no place like home."
"How is where your heart is."
"You can always go home again."
Last week I went "home" to stay at my parent's house. The house I lived in from kindergarten through 2nd grade, 8th grade through 12th grade, and summers for three years in college.
Wherever I live, I always miss this:
The fields, the awe-inspiring sunrises and sunsets, being able to see more stars than you ever knew existed and a weird quiet that you just can't get "in the city."
When I get frustrated with this "yard,"
and the traffic in the Metroplex, and never being able to see the stars, (stupid light pollution). This is what I crave...
"Home is where your heart is."
And yet.
Being back there last week made me all to aware of how it's not actually my "home" anymore.
You see, we've built our own home for our tiny family. And so while enjoying the open skies and visiting with family and friends I really don't see often enough, I was missing this handsome guy
and our fat, furry child.
"Be it every so humble there's no place like home."
And while I may not be able to see the stars, or see for miles in every direction, and I can hear about 5 ambulances go by a day, I love the little home we have. And I missed weird things like our big comfy bed,
my own sink in our bathroom with all my organized hair, makeup and skin care products, and cooking in my own kitchen where I know where everything is and how it works.
And so Friday, as I drove home, (at an undisclosed speed), I couldn't wait to be back to our own
"Home, Sweet Home."

