DNA Diaries

i have been thinking alot lately about home. where is home? what is home? many seem to feel it is where you let your hair down. relax and just be you. some feel it is wherever your loved ones are. and some consider it where you contain your belongings.

i cant say i do or honestly ever have felt "home". i always feel i am visiting somewhere. not a permanent resident. this, i believe is one of my adoption issues.
growing up i was the oddball. i did not fit into my family. they are wonderful, solid people that truly did make an effort to welcome and support me. but they just did not understand who or what i was. they thought if they loved me that was all i would ever need. a mentality that the general population has, because they take their roots for granted. if i knew nothing else i would too. but i do know something else.

i will not bore you with details, but i will be moving from my house sometime this year. probably by the fall. this house is my first attempt at home ownership. for 6 years i have struggled and fought to make it work. i failed.
at first i condemned myself for every mistake made. i blamed hubby spending. i pointed the finger at the government. then i realized-what difference does it make? who the hell actually cares who's fault it is or why? no one, including me.

so now i am faced with yet another pack, haul and unpack. yehaw...... taking your entire life, cramming it into apple boxes from the store and schlepping it into the back of whatever vehicle is available only to arrive, break your back to remove the generically marked containers of your life and place them somewhere foreign. nothing has a place, you cant find the silverware and you seem to have lost 90% of your towels. and did you remember to pick up toilet paper on your way.......probably not.

so this pending circus of events brings me to my question. where is home? my hubby feels it is wherever the kids and i are. the shell does not matter. so long as we are together. (he is such a softie at times. love that)
the kids think it is wherever they have their toys and clothes. (very practical they are)
but i simply don't know. i don't. in my mind, you should FEEL home. it should encompass you in security. it should listen to your laughter and tears. it should carry the brunt of the outside world. it should give you peace.
maybe i am putting too much empathises on all this. over thinking it-but maybe i'm not. i honestly don't know.

is my need for a place to call home irrational? is it something deeper lingering in my heart? do i just need to shut up and hang my family pictures on the wall and make it something?
i feel almost guilty. like i should be comfortable and content wherever i land. i have the people i love in my life and they love me back-what difference does it make where we are? but in my mind it does make a difference. i crave that stability and "aahhhhhh" feeling when i wolk in the door. i want to be excited to pull in the driveway and here that voice in my head say 'finally'.

i will continue looking for my home. where i belong. and until then, i will simply relish my shell, with my loved ones with me, surrounded by my belongings. one day i will feel it. and i can hardly wait.