I recently celebrated my birthday this past week on Father’s Day. A few family members and I went to visit my brother who lives on the other side of town and a conversation about me was in the air.
My family has not been very supportive in my decisions moving to Mexico. In fact, there wasn’t really a time my family was supportive of my endeavors unless it was something they agreed with. A lot of the comments are usually negative towards me and there is not much I can do about it but to ignore it. I have expressed my feelings and thoughts many times without any break through.
I am compared a lot to my father and my family says I am exactly like him. I don’t have much to compare to. I know very little about him, he is still in my life… but not much of it. I’ve only seen him every so often. But I can’t say I am fond of my father since he has been missing most of my life for nearly 3/4 of it. I really hate that I am compared to him or being told I am exactly like him.
So the comment that affected me during this day turning of age…?
She carries her father’s foot steps, they don’t like being at home. They have no home because they don’t create a home.
Ouch. That statement really hurt. Mostly because many people in my life like to think that I have no heart or empathy.
After that night, I arrived home and got ready for bed. I sat down with my dog, Abu, and did some thinking… “I have no home because I don’t create one.” I recall many times my family has mentioned I have no home base. Whatever they mean by home base… beats me.
I always thought my home base was with my family. Where ever they are, that’s my home. They are and always will be my home. However, they don’t seem to agree with this concept at all.
Today in society a home base is considered to be financially stable with a house, married, and kids. With my family… it includes just that, BUT… with the addition of being in the same vicinity as them. My family literally lives down blocks from each other!
However, this is the conclusion I have come down to… you have a home wherever you make it a home. It doesn’t have to be with the immediate family.
In fact, a person can live with more than one home. I technically do. I have my mom’s house, my sisters’ houses, my brothers’ houses… and now I am creating another one… in Mexico. The idea that a person will never have a home because they love to travel or move every so often to different parts of the world is ridiculous.
Where ever a person goes, it is essential to develop new relationships. Having relationships is a home. So, if any one person tells you that you don’t have a home because you don’t have a family, a home base, or because you travel too much… tell them this…
I have a home, they just happen to be spread out across the world. When I come to visit, I at least know I will have someone and something there.
Family doesn’t have to be blood, we all have close friends that are like family. It is entirely rude and thoughtless to think otherwise. What a huge slap in the face to make such a comment and not stop to think that some friends made have become part of the family.
There is absolutely no right or wrong in having more than one home, or not liking the idea of being at home. The home we make, is the love and memories shared. Homes are meant to be walked in and out of. The heart and the memories, however, they never leave.