Truth is, I cannot help but be really sad and feel lonely on the confines of what used to be home for me. It’s the reason why they keep me away, and I prefer to keep away from our house in Laguna.
Home for me nowadays isn’t the house where I grew up on. And I am constantly searching for what home really is for me, or where home is for me. Our house at Laguna teems of haunted memories, not of violence or blood or gore of course, it abounds of memories. Lovingly painful memories. And maybe this is not the right time for me to always be reminded of who I lost, of who used to be me with me in that house. Though we’ve had it repainted a lot of times, furnitures were rearranged, new appliances were installed, pets came etc., it still is full of things that reminds me of the pain of losing people who were a big part of me. And if I’d always wake up with those around me, I just cannot and will not move on.
I see how difficult this is for me, and I realize that it must be a lot harder for my dad and my brother to actually be in there almost everyday thereafter, when everything happened. We have talked about it, and yes, someday in the near future that is, we will give up that house and move somewhere. Our house is too big for us, and yes, we want to actually be detached to that place too. We have to move on. And truth is it is only now that we are actually opening new chapters in our lives. Four years, it took us four years to actually take a step. And I believe that if I have not stayed away from that place, I won’t realize what I can do, what I want to do, what I want in life. I have lost a big part of myself when Mom passed away and I crumbled years thereafter, I was more than lost. But at least now I learned to have a positive mindset to achieving my goals and a clear disposition of what I want for my future.
So where do I go home nowadays? Being inside the arms of people that matter, seeing them happy and making precious moments together is what home is for me now. And even being on my travels, I have found home on just being alone, like a turtle, feeling safe at the confines of my own shell, carrying home on my back.
Though it sounds nice, it’s not. I realized that as I have deigned home to be people, or even as just myself, there will always be a time that you will want a physical place to come back to.
Why? Because people come and go in our lives, therefore a sense of home in them can be somehow temporary and of course, I can’t always feel at home with just myself. But a home as a certain place is different. Or maybe, home is actually a place where you feel happy and secured. I have called Los Banos as my second home. And it still is. I have lost my first home when Mom died and I want to find it back, though maybe not at that same spot, but with the same feeling of growth, affection and learning. I know that even with my father’s new love interest, we three (me, Dad and my brother) can never reestablish the sense of home we had back then if we then moved to a new place. But of course, as I have said earlier, I have found a sense of home just being inside their arms, and it suffices for now.
You are fortunate if you still have that “place” or “building” that you call home because not everyone has that kind of place to come back to everyday or even maybe just every weekend.
But maybe someday I’ll find my own home. Still finding my way, but I’ll find it.