I have this habit of saying "I wanna go home" when I don't feel good. It made me stop and think about what home is to me. Now that I'm married, and since I've been dating Alan, really, home is where he is ...or where there is a sense of us. A place that we have made our own and filled with things big and small that represent us. Right now we don't have that place. We're living with mom and it has been kinda hard to establish a sense of us in the small space we have. Not that it can't be done in a small space, but our space is made smaller by mom's stuff that is still here, and by the lack of privacy. With my husband away, I just don't feel at home. I mean, I know I grew up here, but it's not home anymore.
When my husband gets home, we are finally getting our own place. I can't stop thinking about it. I daydream about organzing my kitchen, about the placement of our books and photo albums. I just inherited an album of his baby pictures, which is so perfect. And there's the fireman with Mickey Mouse figurine we bought at Disneyland. Just things that make it our home. A home isn't just things, of course, it is a place christened by the love between two people, love that will eventually create a family.
Home is in the arms of my sailor.
No comments:
Post a Comment