Home

There are moments in life when the only thing that will help is going home.  The adage of "home is where the heart is" rings true but when one's heart has taken such a beating, it's hard to know where that is anymore.

I opted to leave the "family home" versus making my ex sell it.  I knew that my children needed the stability of a building as they had yet to learn that it is the people within it that make it a real home.  Their desire to "hang" with Mom at my place because their "home" is morphing is one step towards the lesson...a house is just a place to hang your hat...a home is a place of love and safety.

For all my bravado, I still have days when the heartache is so intense that all I can hope for is a feeling of home.  Although I have been successful at helping my children feel anchored, I'm still adrift. My feeling of safety was utterly shattered years ago.  I don't want the kids to have that feeling ever.  

As I look around this little safe nest that I've struggled to feather...a tiny space compared to the McMansions I've inhabited...I'm thankful to just hunker down and lick my wounds here.  I know I can't go to my childhood home for help...it's all on me to deal with...and move forward.  But today, I will just sit still, hug myself, and know that heartache passes.  At least it dulls somewhat.  It's survivable.