Whenever my classes read the memoir, The Glass Castle, where Jeannette Walls’ family moved around the country and sometimes found themselves either homeless or living in not much more than a shack, I speak to them of the concept of home. To me, it is an intrinsic need. A heartfelt yearning. A fervent desire. It matters little where you are headed. It could be a small apartment or a palatial mansion with a moat. That ability to enter somewhere and close the door to the outside world is valuable. Sometimes just knowing there is a place for me to go to get away from everything a day throws at me is enough to see me through.
When I think of home, my mind’s eye can transport me back to my childhood home which is long gone, destroyed by Superstorm Sandy. I had not set foot in that house for many years at the time of its demise. My parents had sold it and moved on. The vivid memories of the place I called home until I got married, however, is seared in my brain. It was not a large house. It was actually kind of a small house in which to raise four kids. And did I mention we only had one bathroom? The point is, it was my earliest home and I hope I can always travel back there in my mind.
I have lived in various places since then. The house I raised my kids in will appear in my memories as well. I have lived in a couple of apartments, too, and the part I liked best about that is not only the solitude but also the ability to surround myself with colors and sentimental objects and photos that mean something to me. And books, I do like shelves and shelves of books.
Some people use the expression, “Go Big or Go Home.” I am never interested in going big, but I usually want to go home. Home is where I can be myself. I can be quiet. I can lie on my couch. I can read, sleep, eat. I can do whatever I like without having to answer to anyone else. There are no expectations of me or preconceived notions of what I need to do. Home provides solitude and solace to me.
I can go out into the world to slay a few dragons, but then I must be allowed to close the door and find some peace.
Being homeless, having to sleep outside or in your car, wash up in public restrooms, and such with no place private to go and rest is horrible. I couldn’t survive it, again.
Your strength amazes me.
So very true! The ability to close a door of a place that’s is yours and recharge your strength with the ones you love is essential! As always, I enjoy your thoughts! Thanks for sharing my friend!
Thank you for reading, my friend!
So nice and true!
You know how I feel about going home, Janie, wherever that might be! Lol