After two weeks roaming around Singapore I have to say I am happy to be home. Although I enjoy going around and exploring new places, trying out new dishes and meeting friends, nothing beats the warmth of being back home surrounded by family and loved ones. Even if we don’t meet everyday, somehow the thought of being in the same city is reassuring. It’s warm and I feel fortunate to have such a lovely family.
It’s funny when you look back on years past. There was a time when I would want to go away for weeks on end and not miss a thing. Life was fun and I was young. Now, I can feel the years creeping up on me ever so quietly and I find myself saying “I miss home. I miss my family.”
“Home” for me has always been a funny thing. I remember being asked on countless occasions what I considered “home” since I moved country every couple of years. I wasn’t really “Thai” becaused I hardly lived there and I was hardly a citizen of any other country. I had grown up in Switzerland, Belgium, Poland and the US. I was a traveling citizen of Earth. Where was my home?
And so my definition of “home” has always been a simple one and one that I still hold dear. For me, home has always been where my heart is. Home is where my family lives. Home is where all whom I treasure and love reside. Everything else is just exernality. It’s the family that makes any place “home.” It’s not the house nor the country, nor the belongings. Nothing materialistic. “Home” is where my heart is.
What do you consider your home? What is your definition? Please feel free to share 🙂