Tuesday, July 20, 2021

A Treasure Found in Writing

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.  


  1. 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.

  2. Who 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.

  3. A 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.

  4. So 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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