Home Is Where...

I don't like that phrase "home is where the heart is" because my heart is torn in different pieces and tossed all over the country. Washington, Oregon, Utah, Mississippi, South Dakota, Oklahoma, etc, And in a few months, I'll leave a piece of myself and my heart here in Miami. Jacob and I had a discussion about what makes a home, home. We flew home last night from a jam-packed, crack crazy trip to NYC. We drove through an intersection close to our house and Jacob said, "It's not my intersection anymore." I said, "Whoa, buddy. We haven't left yet. We're not gonna be saying goodbye to the intersections for at least a month or two." But it brought up a good point. Is Miami home, or is NYC home? The transition isn't automatic. We let go of places while we're still living in them, yet we start to embrace and accept new places before we've set up our bed. What do you qualify as 'home'? I almost want to say it's wherever your bed is, but there are a lot of exceptions to that. I tried to make a case for "home is where your bed smells good," but he wasn't having any of that since beds don't always smell that great.

My mom came to take care of the girls while we were gone. I don't have the words or capability to express how grateful I am for her service. She is the epitome of Christ-like serving and I recently came to the difficult conclusion that I will never work as hard or be as giving as my mom. But that's ok, she is one of a kind wonderful and I love her for it. Hannah did not do well with Grandma leaving and has spent at least 2 hours on the couch today in a gut-wrenching, straight from the heart weeping for her Grandma who left her. The loss she feels is very real and we had a nice chat about grief.

I'm going to post this and do a separate post with pictures and updates about our trip. I'm too tired to continue. Plus Jacob has a man cold, Hannah is getting stuffed up and Leah wants to be up at 6:30 to finish an assignment not due until next week (who is this child?!).

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