My thoughts have been turning a great detail lately to where home is. In these musings and ponderings I have come to the conclusion that the home my heart feels is irrelevant to its bricks and mortar location.
The places I live are where my son and I move in circles with around each other within comfortable silence. The place there is no need to constantly validate the strength of our relationship through incessant speech. I am never as silent, and as peaceful in silence, as when I am with my boy. It is having a house that others use as sanctuary – a place they are drawn to when trouble strikes. It is preparing them food, hugging them, and telling them that it will be OK even when I’m not entirely sure it will be. It is the friends I visit when the same trouble strikes me, and the people who hold me, feed me and tell me it will be OK, even when they’re not sure it will be.
Home, I am beginning to understand, is the people I love who love me back so fiercely that I have moments when tears well and flow over in gratitude.
Every moment happens twice: inside and outside, and they are two different histories”~ Zadie Smith, White Teeth
I have no interest in your opinion of the weather, or traffic. Sure, tell me the outside story – but only for context. What I want to know about is the inside story.
Is your heart still broken, or is it patched back together by love? Does it have a scar that runs across its width and breadth that will never fully heal – or have you found a way to live again?
I want to know what lights you up. There is no greater joy than to watch a person ignite from the inside. What lights them is less relevant than the warmth that radiates outward as they speak. There is no greater beauty than watching a person’s laugh lines etch across the corners of their eyes as their lips turn upward in to a smile.
I want to know what leaves you under the covers unable to move for fear that a single step more will break you for good. There is no greater honour than being handed another’s grief. I am interested in your humility, not your humiliation. If you hand me your heart I will hold it with care. Tenderly, so as not to do any further damage. I want to know what is behind what I can see, the beauty that lurks.
I’ve just never been much for small talk