Close to the Heart (Day 3)

Yesterday I got to create this vivid encounter and reflection around the word JUICY; an account which seemed so easy and quick to put together unlike the the first day. Today, it again has taken me some time to write and reflect on the given prompt... HOME.  

So many things come to mind when I think of home.... I think of my mother (which is interesting because I, in theory, was raised in a two-parent home), mostly because no matter where I was in the world I knew I could always come "home" to her; 22nd street; my wife; our [unknown] family - wife, doggies, bab(ies), me; my sisters; even, Cuba. HOME..... HOME....Home makes me feel warm. Visually, I go to the heart. Literally, like what does my heart see/feel/identify with home. I guess that makes sense because as the saying goes "home is where the heart is." I read somewhere that a persons identity with "home" can physiologically influence a persons behavior, emotions, and overall mental health.  It manifests thoughts about who someone is, used to be, or might become. To me, home is a string of warmness that defines me at the heart; thus, all the things above.  Yup; that's certainly my case. 

Figuratively, home is on 22nd street, were I was born and raised.  Literally.... I was born premature from a warrior women who had a whirlwind life and went into labor early.  It was no coincidence I was given the name Lazara - but that's a whole other story.  With the little bit she had, no matter what, she created a home for us on 22nd street. Marriage, siblings, growing pains, and other events led us to settle in a specific house on 22nd, which is still the home my parents [dad] inhabits.  I have the best memories of this place!  It's never been the dream home, I'll tell you that much, but we've had births, birthdays, graduations, mysterious encounters, animals, laughs, cries, fights, and sadly even, parting goodbyes here.  My sisters and I always wanted more rooms; we wanted a new kitchen for my mother; we wanted more windows; we wanted to be able to run around; we wanted it to look "pretty."  We wanted so much, but the whole time we wouldn't ever let it go because it was HOME.  I've been away from this "home" in one form or another since 1997.   And still, it's interesting because no matter where I go, where I am, this house is my home.  

Though, things have changed a bit for me.... My home is becoming the space that my wife and I inhabit.  She embodies so much of what I long for in a home; similar to what my mom once created for me.  The picture isn't fully formed with the destination unknown yet, but it's coming up; I know it!  We are creating our home with every step, plan and breath we take.  The mere fact that we are trying to bring a being into this world is symbolic to the home we are building.  That heart string I spoke about earlier has extended from 22nd street and wrapped itself around my wife and I...moving with us to wherever we build our home.  I maintain that "home is where the heart it is"... it's whatever we dwell close to the heart.