Hi everyone! I guess I should say Hi Ya’ll as is the Texas way.
I thought I knew what and where home was for me. When I was a child, we had a home. It was where I spent most of my growing up years, and it was a place I knew inside and out. I can still walk the dirt roads in my mind, smelling the lilacs and hunting for blackberries. I was surrounded by family, by friends. That place was home to me.
During my teenage years we moved a few times, never staying long enough to make a new place “home.” And then, when we finally did land on the Texas Gulf Coast, in a house, for longer than two years, well this was the place that my parent’s marriage unraveled. For a bit it was home, but it very quickly became otherwise.
But here? This place? I grew up in different ways here in the countryside outside of Houston. This house was bought with my first husband. Unfortunately, at that point in time, I was living in a fantasy world. In reality, my ex-husband was a self -proclaimed recovering crack addict but without the “recovery” part unbeknownst to me. It was all too soon and for the best that this marriage disintegrated. It would take me years to really come to terms with this relationship both emotionally and financially.
The house we had jointly decided upon, became my house. It was strange at first, coming home at the end of the day to the quiet. Coming home to only my thoughts, regrets, and failed dreams. But, I started to realize that I was the one who needed to make this My Home. That it was up to me to make this or any place a sanctuary for myself. I began to look forward to the long commute home, alone with me, to the house, empty except for the sweet dogs there to greet me. This time period, being single again, gave me the opportunity to learn about myself. I learned how to forgive myself for falling in love and believing in the world of a crack addict. I learned to how forgive him and myself for treating me so poorly. I learned so many things, but mostly I learned how to take care of me.
Now, I have lived here in the Houston area for sixteen years and in this house for fifteen years. It has slowly but surely become Home. I still miss the snow, the mountains, the not-hot-all-of-the-time weather. I miss the springtime cold nights running around chasing fire flies. But maybe the home of my childhood has been idealized because it is just that: Home of My Childhood. It’s easy to reminisce and fill in the blanks or block things out that may take away from that supposedly pure and wonderful place.
Here though, this is reality. This place is now my home I share with my husband, some crazy dogs, and a really crazy cat. And while we can all say that home is where our family is, where our friends are, where work is (all true), I have learned that Home is also something within me. Whether I stay here or not, change jobs, relationships, it doesn’t matter. It’s the inside that makes the outside feel like Home. I hope all of you have a place to call “home” and if not a physical place, definitely an emotional one.
If you want to hang out with me a little more, I blog over at www.readbetweenthelyme.com Most of my posts journey my experience with Chronic Lyme disease, but I throw some other random stuff in there periodically as well.
Adios, and thanks for reading! And a HUGE thank you to Jason for the space to share! Peace – Belle (aka Ellen)