I love when writing leads to discovery and growth, and I feel that this has been the case for me over the last few weeks. These small treasures come out in the places I least expect.
I was working on a writing exercise in a Mindful Journaling workshop while I was visiting my parents in their new-to-me home in Venice, Florida. We were charged with making a list of things around us that appealed to our 5 senses. Since I was writing, some of the things around me were familiar, such as my journals, pens, and phone. However, some of the items were foreign because of my setting, including a succulent, flip-flops flipping, the washer humming, a wall clock, and more.
As I reviewed the items and then started to write from one, I discovered something very important. Here is my writing discovery:
Grilled cheese! Made for ME by my dad!
Usually, I am the one cooking for everyone else. It is a rare treat to have something made for me. Although when I am with my parents, they still try to take care of me even though I am 50 years old.
I struggled with their move from Connecticut to Florida. I knew I would not see them as much because of the distance. I was afraid of losing another home, a place where I felt safe, comfortable, and taken care of. The idea that I could just get in the car and visit my parents or call them if I needed them always provided me great comfort. They have always been there for me and my family.
In Connecticut, my parents lived in the town where I spent my early childhood, got married, and baptized my children, and they lived on the hill next to my great grandparents’ house. It is the place of my roots, and I have always felt a special connection to that place.
Ambivalence swept over me as we were driving to Florida; I was afraid that their house in Venice would not feel like home. I had only been there one other time since their move over two years ago. Honestly, I have felt a bit lost without them close by in Connecticut.
However, sitting there, still and present, I felt comfort surrounding me. In that mindful moment, I realized that home is not a particular set of four walls measured by time and place but rather any four walls containing the people you love.
Oh I LOVE that last paragraph. And grilled cheese is one of my memory comfort foods too- my grandfather used to make the best bubbly grilled cheese.
ReplyDeleteWho would have thought that grilled cheese can lead you to a deep discovery of the meaning of home. Here's to observing the world with all senses and writing regularly - both are great ways to discover meaning around and inside us.
ReplyDeleteA sense of home is made by the people who surround you. My parents have moved twice since they became empty nesters. At first it was odd and I too wondered if each new "home" would feel like home. And it does, like you nicely stated in your last line.
ReplyDeleteSo true! Houses are a million. Homes are wherever you are with the people you love. I know it's hard when family moves from once place to another, but your heart goes wherever you go with the people you love. BTW, that area of Florida is lovely.
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