Home is where the heart is...

Home is always on my mind, my new home, my old home, my forever home, my "never thought I'd be here home", my home away from home, big home, ugly home, awkward and too tiny home.  Ive lived in a combination of all of these places, big, small, ugly, cute, etc.  But the one commonality each of these homes is each has a piece of my heart.

If the old saying goes "home is where the heart is" then my heart is all over the US and soon to be Asia.  Each move, I've left a piece of my heart, a bit of myself.

Its kind of like when I was in labor with my second and I was sobbing about how I wouldn't have enough love to go around for this baby and my 1st born (boy was I naive  dumb).  OF COURSE I HAD ENOUGH LOVE...and since, enough for not just 2, but 4 of them.  My heart has grown, almost to the point of bursting with love for each of my children.  Not only has my heart grown with my babies, but its changed and reshaped with each of my moves.

The heart is resilient, but its also living and just like any muscle, it aches as its exercised and stretched beyond its normal size and shape.  Years ago, I would have told you, "I couldn't do that" (the moving "thing").   That would be a true statement, I couldn't and I didn't for a while, maybe too long.

When I first moved away from "HOME"  I was hurt, angry, sad, mad, in denial, frustrated, confused, and so many more emotions (mostly unhealthy).  My heart eventually got "in shape" and caught up to the changing and growing and I was experiencing; just in time to do it again.  Although this time I was in better shape for what was coming. I knew the pain and heartache and I knew the anguish of saying goodbye to friends who'd become family.  I didn't want to move, but I also knew that my heart would reshape after I'd ripped a piece of off it and left it behind.

Again, it took time for my heart to look like a heart again and be ready to love and not hurt when I stretched it and pulled it in directions it had never been.  Eventually, my heart was strong again, pumping and beating with new friends and the adrenaline rushing with new adventures it was ready to embark on.  My heart was in the best shape of its life, full of love, in great physical shape, it was strong and it looked like a heart.  But then...again...it broke.  It ached.  It bled. It hurt.

I had to do it again, I took all those pieces that I'd found to fill in the parts I'd left in New York, and I scattered them in North Carolina.  My heart was full, it just wasn't in one piece; think of it like a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle jiggling in a box.  I couldn't do it AGAIN.  I didn't want to open the puzzle it would take too long  forever to put together again.  I couldn't.  But then I did.

I picked up those pieces one by one and started building my broken heart.  Slowly, it started to form a beautiful picture again. Yet somehow the picture was more beautiful than I remembered it; the nooks and crannies were filled with images, memories, and conversations with friends.  There were new pieces to the puzzle that made it better than before.  I completed that puzzle, stood back and watched it break into a million pieces again.  It was time.  I had to pack up those pieces, while clutching a few in my hand as a reminder of the beautiful picture they formed.

Yep, I knew better this time, I'd hold those pieces of my heart so close...I wouldn't let them go this time...nope, it would be so much easier to do the puzzle this time...I wasn't about to give my heart another heart attack.  I had it figured out.  If I didn't leave a part of my heart, I would have it all to myself.  The problem is, when I didn't use my heart, it started to loose shape, it started to get lazy and not work as well.  If I didn't use it, I didn't use it and nobody was benefiting from it.  My heart hurt in a way it hadn't in a while.  I had a heart beat, but it wasn't strong, it wasn't healthy, it was skipping a beat, but not in a good way.  Something was missing...I wasn't sharing it with anyone...and they weren't sharing theirs with me.

I learned (I hope), this move, that if Im not sharing my heart, they're not sharing theirs.  YES it hurts, more than I can explain.  Its not something I can put a bandaid on and the hurt will go away.  Its not something I can take a pill for and my heart will get stronger.  Its a process that involves, tears, pain, hurt and loss; but its also a process that involves joy, gain, growth and change.

I don't want to leave a part of my heart in California, but I have to, because home is where my heart is.  My heart is with family.  My heart is with friends. My heart is in Colorado, New York, North Carolina, Delaware (I know crazy),  California and a piece of my heart is already in Japan.  God only knows where my heart will end up...but Im praising Him already for where it is and where it will be!

I beg you, if you know me don't let me walk away without me giving you a piece of my heart.  I want more than anything to have a piece of yours too.