How it feels to be "Home"....

I think my dad pretty much summed up my world when he posed the question...

”How does it feel to be home? Or whatever you call home these days...”

I can't really say that I know what home feels like anymore. I think I've come to that point where I've jaded myself out so much that in a very cynical type of way I wouldn't know what "home" felt like even if it slapped me in the face. I live a lot of places. And many more places I am always welcome. I have a couch in Wyoming that will always be available to rest my head on. Martin has my D.C. escape when I need to get away. I know I’m always welcome to live at my grandma’s in Oklahoma. And the Harjo’s are more than happy to give me their surrogate daughter a spare room if I’m ever in Texas. The list goes on…

I think of the things I used to call home and wonder to myself where that feeling went or why I let it go. I live a restless life. I never know what I’m doing or where I’m going. I think I do. And all my plans always sound really good. But in the mean time I’m lost cause none of it motivates me or moves me in such a way that I’m eager to get to that point or that place I would like to call home.

I dunno…I was just thinking about that today as I was brushing my niece’s hair. I call her my mini me cause she totally reminds me of me when I was her age. Just sitting in the chair and brushing out all the tangles out of her long Seminole hair after she just got out of the bath reminded me of the countless times my mom used to do that for me. As a little girl I remember thinking to myself…one day I’ll get to do that for my daughter. That’ll be me brushing my daughter’s long black hair only I won’t give my girls Chinese eyes…ha ha ha.

Tucking her in and fighting with her about going to be touched a part of me I haven’t felt in a while. A part of me that I tend to ignore and once thought I could completely do without because being single for so long softly dulled away that longing. I think I let that part of me go as well when I had a miscarriage and lost my son. Losing him was probably one of the worst pains I have ever felt and I never really knew how much I wanted him til I found out he was gone. I let that part of me go because I never wanted to have that experience again.

All things being what they are I know I’m still probably not ready for that time and place where I can get back to being at “Home”. For now I take my comforts in the little things I do get and the little times in life where I can pretend nothing else is more important. Like when I get to play with and take care of my nieces and nephews, my “kids”. Or when I lie next to my beloved and can do nothing else but breathe in his comforts and my adoration for him. Or when my daddy hugs me and I can feel the strength of his love so much I want to cry every time. It’s the little things in life.

I don’t know where this blog is going…just random thoughts for the day I suppose.