I have read several blogs recently on the subject of “home”. Where is “home”?
Dictionary.com tells us the following
home [hohm]
noun
1. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household.
2. the place in which one’s domestic affections are centered.
3. an institution for the homeless, sick, etc.: a nursing home.
4. the dwelling place or retreat of an animal.
5. the place or region where something is native or most common.
Synonyms
1. abode, dwelling, habitation; domicile. See house.
2. hearth, fireside.
3. asylum.
For TCKs or Global Nomads, it is an ongoing topic. The eternal question – where are you from? Where is your home? These are not easy questions to answer. Home is here and everywhere. I am from here and everywhere.
That very last word is my favorite. Asylum. The place where you feel safe. That is where home is. That is where home should be. What makes you feel safe? People you trust. People who love you. Mutual understanding and respect. Comfort. Growing up, my home was always where my family was, unless I was with them, and then it was wherever we were. It didn’t matter if it was a hotel room or a house or an airport. As long as we were together and had a pack of cards nearby, we were at home. A good card game could get us through anything. Some of my fondest memories are of blackouts during torrential rainstorms playing cards by candlelight.
We all continue to search for the elusive “home” but I think we know where to find it when we really need it.
“The strength of this family bond works to the benefit of children when parent-child communication is good and the overall family dynamic is healthy. It can be devastating when it is not. Compared to the geographically stable child, the global-nomad child is inordinately reliant on the nuclear family for affirmation, behavior-modeling, support and above all, a place of safety. The impact, therefore, of dysfunction in this most basic of units in exacerbated by the mobile lifestyle.”
Excerpt from GROWING UP WITH A WORLD VIEW By Norma M. McCaig
The picture of the farmhouse in this article about “home” looks exactly like my grandparents’ farmhouse in Iowa. Just wondered where this house was located!! (:
Hi cuz… it is the very one!
Kathy?! Did you write this article?! Really good!! (; Did you create expat alien?!
Yes, it is me!
Oh, I recognize the house!!! My friend Dennis’ son bought the farm a few years ago. Dennis’ daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter live there now. I have been there and was trying to remember being there as a child.
road is my home
For me, ‘home’ is where I am living now, with my family. It’s the ‘where are you from’ that gets a little trickier. Where I was born? Where I grew up (and when was that?)…
This question has always been a huge one for me. I’ve been fairly gypsy-ish my entire life, and the concept of home was a complete mystery. It wasn’t until I met my husband that I finally understood that it has nothing to do with physical location. Home truly is “where the heart is.”
This is a question I have asked myself many times… Where is home?
I’ve come to the conclusion, home is where ever you’re happy.
Thank you for stopping by on my blog and liking one of my posts. I too struggle with the issue of home, although in more recent years it’s become less of a struggle, more of a go with the flow. Here is something I wrote just yesterday about where I consider home to be:
Home is where I find the spices to cook with love for family meals.
Home is where stroppy huffs give way to midnight cuddles.
Home is where books rest, secure in the love I have for them.
Home is where I don’t have to define myself.
Very nice!
One of my favorite songs is a Billy Joel song entitled “You’re my Home.” I think it goes something like “Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Indiana’s earlymorning dew, high up in the hills of California, home is just another word for you…” Such a great topic especially for those of us with major wanderlust.
For me, home is where my parents live and my grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins live. When I was a kid I used to hate being asked “Where are you from?”, like seriously hate and loathe it so much. Now when new people I meet ask me I sort of rattle on about “I was born here, my dad’s from country A and my mom’s from country B” and my friends are laughing away at the person’s bewildered reaction.
Wonderful post and one I can relate to so much. I think home is where I’m living at the moment, where I am with my loved ones. Growing up it was wherever we lived with my parents/siblings, and now it’s wherever we end up with my husband. I do have to agree with you and several commenters though that “where are you from” is definitely a complicated questions for expats/TCKs!! And people who haven’t had similar experiences really do look at us like we’re crazy when we go through the whole explanation!
Home is where I unpack my suitcase and hang my heart.