“Home is where the Heart is”… or so says the age-old adage.

If that is true, will I ever actually “BE” home again?

I ‘left home’ for college in May, 1997 and other than a 3-month stint after graduation at the end of 2000, I never really went back: I spent 5.5 years in Detroit and it ‘s been 8 years since I moved to NYC. I now own a little piece of Brooklyn that I call my own, and the bank calls me a “home owner”, so it should follow that I AM home, right?

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE my apt!! The views, the building, the neighbors, the ‘hood… I couldn’t ask for anything more!!! (well, maybe a 3rd bedroom woulda been nice!.. LOL)…. But, (and there’s always a “but”, isn’t there?), there was always this sense of ‘comfort’ knowing that I went “home” every xmas to spend the holidays with my grandma. Yeah, 17 years after I first left for RPI, I always felt I still had a home in Tijuana: the home i was raised in by my grandparents, the home my grandfather first built to raise his children.

And now, as preparations are made for that old house to be sold, I struggle to figure out if i still have a home — and where that home really is.

If home really is where the heart is, then half my home is on a small burial plot and half in a city I’ve never been to, somewhere in TN — so not only have I lost my “home”, but it seems my heart isn’t really mine anymore, is it?

Will the void ever feel less big? Will my residence ever really feel like home again?


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