“It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed is you.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
Dear Readers,
For a long time I used to believe that the word “home” was defined as the house that raised me — the familiar door I opened everyday after middle school, the bedroom that encompassed the pictures and trophies of my childhood, and the sweet smell of a dinner on the table with a family of four gathered around swapping stories of our day. I used to imagine that I could never be without my childhood home because it was everything that built me — the memories that lingered inside the familiarities of my past forced me to grab onto every hinge and wooden board that made my home what it was. However, with age and time I started to realize that a home isn’t the place where we grow up, in fact, the physicality of a home is merely a simple dwelling that provides shelter. A real home cannot be captured in the foundation of bricks and siding; the truest of homes never rests in one firm place but travels with us in the hidden chambers of our souls, sleeping quietly until we need to be reminded of the love that has always been with us.
I remember leaving for college my freshman year, taking mental photographs of the living room where my family sat every night to watch television together. I glided my hands over the railings, hoping to keep that same tender sensation long after I had left it behind. I looked back at my bedroom one last time, knowing that I wouldn’t find the same solace and peace after a long day once I had left. All these superficial parts of my home we’re just physical elements; the pieces of my home I would truly miss we’re the people who lived inside of it, my family.
It’s a scary thing to leave a place behind because we fear we’ll never find that same love and comfort again. We worry that the temporary alienation of a strange place will remain forever because it will never amount to the memories and love that surrounded our home. But the truth is, leaving home teaches us one of the greatest lessons life has to offer: you can take love with you, no matter how far you travel.
Leaving home taught me to appreciate the gentle hug from my mother when I had a horrible day, knowing that her embrace made me feel safe again. I remembered the smell of her perfume in greater detail because I knew that someday it would become a faint memory of a childhood I was no longer living in. I held onto the short lived fights and lectures as a basis for the same speeches I would give my children one day when they found themselves in the same trouble I did.
I learned to smile at the time my dad made me play baseball despite the fact that the pitcher threw the ball directly at my face; his persistence taught me to never give up even when life forced me on my back over home plate. I learned to repeat the same jokes and euphemisms he spouted in the midst of a few drinks and many laughs, because making people smile was one of the greatest qualities we shared.
I acknowledged the protection of my sister as the purest act of bravery, even if it was only standing up to a bully who thought he could put me in my place. I appreciated her open-mindedness and thoughtful nature, especially when she imparted some of the best snippets of advice any teenager could ever ask for. These sibling-bonding moments became aspirations for the relationships my own children would hopefully have one day with each other.
See, it took the courage to leave home to understand what it really was. Home isn’t a house to return to after long months or years away from it. Home is the memories and love you acquire from the people that mean the most. Sure, there will come a time when my New Jersey home no longer resides with the Lewis family, but my home will continue to live not just in my heart, but in the hearts of the people I share my memories and stories with. Our homes essentially become not a physical foundation, but rather an emotional foundation for the rest of our adult lives.
No matter how lost you feel always remember: it takes only a moment to look inside your heart to find your way back home.
