
Home is where the heart is right? That’s how the saying goes. Doesn’t matter where you are or who you are with, home is where the heart is. I assume we’re talking about my heart.
Home is where my mom lives (where I am currently writing this from). Home is driving 500 miles for 8 hours to spend a week with the woman that gave birth to me. She is always happy to see me. She will cook whatever I want, which is not good since I am on a low carb, low sugar diet. Just entering that house where I attended first through third grade is very comforting. Its cozy even though it is old and very small; and the shower is barely wide enough to bend over and soap your legs; and the waterspout only comes up to my nose so I have to bend over to wash my hair. But its home. The bed is not my home bed, it’s a bit uncomfortable but I survive because being around my mom is a safety net. When my dad was alive, I had no worries about Mom. He was there to take care of her and us as well. He was my lifeline if I needed one. I know if all else failed I could go home to Hattiesburg Mississippi, and everything would be OK. Another cocoon.
Home is my recliner where I plop in front of my big screen TV and proceed to vegetate and watch YouTube videos when I get home from work, It signifies I am home, I am safe, and I can relax my body and mind. My cocoon from the big bad world outside.
Home is my house in Texas. I’m a homebody. On weekends we don’t go out much. During the pandemic, we got used to staying at home instead of eating out. We would entertain ourselves at home. We watched a lot of TV and movies. We got comfortable doing that and so we have not broken that habit. I’ve not been in a movie theater since 2018. We spend the summer in the pool.
Home is my bed in my own house. Settling in for a night of sleep feels comfortable and secure. Even better if it is raining outside. That is a level of coziness that can’t be beat. A cocoon.
The next day brings work and anxiety due to traffic and having to do things I don’t want to do anymore. I’m getting close to retirement and I have an attitude, not a good one either. I don’t like doing certain things, like flying. I don’t want to leave my home and fly anymore, at least not for this company. I’ve done enough of that over the years, and it has not gotten me anything. Its difficult to fly these days. The security, the bag limit, the rude people. It just sucks. I need my cocoon.
Home is where my hobbies are. My music room where I can sit and practice guitar and write songs or listen to vinyl albums. My comic book room where I can sit and read comics or work on writing. I could never get bored with the hobbies I have. Photography, writing, drawing, reading books and comic books, toy collecting, comic book collecting. I never need to leave the house except maybe to get in the pool on a hot summer day. Whenever we do leave the house it’s to do something where we stay in the car, like Pokémon hunting. Otherwise, I come home from work on a Friday and my truck sits in the garage all weekend.
Home is where you can spend a whole weekend and not have any need to get out and mingle with the rest of society. I hate people, people are not really nice when you go out. I have a terrible view of society. People don’t get along anymore. I want to go home to Hattiesburg, leave the big city of Dallas, and enjoy a small town where it doesn’t take 30 minutes or more to go somewhere as simple as a store. I hate the big city now. When I first came here, I loved it. Small town life was just boring as a twenty-something. I want boring again. I want nice people and a nice community.
Home is many things to me and since my heart is firmly placed inside my body then I guess you can say home is where my heart is and currently it is in Hattiesburg Mississippi.