I wrote about this once before and I think sometimes you need to revisit topics. Here is a saying has always struck me odd, especially being a military family.
Home is Where the Heart Is
Seriously, I don’t even know what the means any longer. I really don’t. My heart belongs in so many places to so many people. I give away my heart with unguarded frivolity and I don’t blink an eye when giving over such a precious gift.
If I wear my heart on my sleeve, then my sleeve is my home. Which sleeve? My right one or left? I like the left better.
I guess I don’t really mean it when I say that I don’t know what it means, but that’s not really true because here’s what that cliché saying means to me: home is where my heart is, and my heart is Jeremy, so my heart is boarding a plane and leaving for Afghanistan. That is where I will be…a part of me will be in Afghanistan…with Jeremy. I will protect him and keep him safe. I will watch over him and keep his faith strong. I will be there to listen when he’s lonely and needs a friend to laugh with. I will be his heart as well. Though, I will never physically walk beside him and encourage him, by loving him and caring for him, he will be everything he needs to be and more. He will do the same for me.
As I buy a house and establish our home, Jeremy will help guide me and be the strength that I need when I am weak. He will help me keep my faith and compassion. Jeremy will be the man that I need and not even be here to see me succeed. Despite our separation, I will thrive and be fine. I will wait here for him, keep our family, and be strong. I will be so strong. I will be the strongest woman, until I am not. Then I will pick myself up, depend on his love, his heart to make it through.
I don’t know if I really understand what the real meaning is to Home is Where the Heart Is, but I know what it means to my family. I know what it means to me. And because of our meaning, our love, and our friendship, home for me is my Jeremy, me for him.
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