. . . be it ever so humble . . .
"When I speak of home, I speak of the place where -- in default of a better -- those I love are gathered together; and if that place were a gypsy's tent, or a barn, I should call it by the same good name notwithstanding."
~Charles Dickens in Nicholas Nickleby
I've been thinking about home lately.
I spent three weeks on the farm with my family. It was really great - I didn't really do much of anything aside from baking and visiting with people. It was slow and homey, and I started feeling like I was fully apart of my family again. And it's been a while. It did make me miss Montreal more though - it was as though I have a home with my family and a home with my friends. Things were good when I could live in one place and visit the other... Last semester I felt as though my place of dwelling was neither. Fortunately, I have a ticket to visit my Montreal home soon. I then followed my time on the farm by a full week with my people in Edmonton. I had four wonderful weeks of home.
When I booked the ticket out east, I remarked that I was going to get to visit ALL my homes in the space of three months. My new friend Ernest joked that one day when I do settle, it would have to be one of the four places I've already lived - 'cause I already have too many homes. *grin*
Today was my first Sunday back in Victoria in the new year. And, because of my bout with bronchitis it was my first time at St. Philip's since November. I walked in the door and didn't even make it up the stairs when the church secretary exclaimed "[Eventhere's] back!" I can't even begin to explain. *grin* One of the biggest lies that I tend to believe about myself is that I'm forgettable. Of my biggest fears is that when I leave a place, my absence goes unnoticed. And one of the things that makes me feel the most loved is to hear and know that I've been thought of and even loved in my absence. It sounds stupid when it's written down, I know, but irrational fears rarely are rational now, are they?
Then I got to be in the service, singing the liturgy to the melodies that I've had stuck in my head since the last time I was there. The words have always been familiar to me, but now the melodies are familiar and comforting too. I sat alone, which I often do here, but after the service I got to chat with people that I haven't seen in a while. People who are getting to know and understand me - who noticed that I had been gone. People who rejoiced with me at the news that I'm accepted into my new program (though I haven't received the official email) and who are helping me brainstorm on a thesis topic.
I spent the last month living out of a suitcase or duffel bag, unsure of where mom keeps some of the things that I always knew where to find, and without a spot to practise. I returned to a place where I can leave my horn sit on the floor if I wish to and my clothes hang in a closet. I left a chain of coffee dates and late night talks in Edmonton, and I came back to joyful greetings and a whole 'nother set of coffee dates, late nights, and hugs.
My family has never moved, but I have many homes. *grin*
“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.”
Christian Morganstern (German author and poet)
"A community needs a soul if it is to become a true home for human beings. You, the people must give it this soul.”
Pope John Paul II (Polish Pope. 1920-2005)