Home Is...

When I was in high school, my older three sisters and my brother all moved out at some point to go on to some new life of their own. Some of them ended up coming back home for a while, some never did. I was always close to them, and looked forward to them coming home to visit. It was a huge family affair, with tons of food, drinking, and catching up on all that was new in their lives. I looked forward to the time when I would come home to the same. I never did in quite the same way.

Since I am the youngest of five kids, my leaving home was much different. My parents traveled the country to visit my sister at boot camp and when she arrived home from deployment; they traveled six hours to take another sister to college and help her settle in. My leaving was much different. My mom didn't cry; in fact, I think she was as anxious for me to leave as I was. I didn't realize this at the time, but it was an adventure for her as well. For the first time in her life, she was not wrapped up in her children's lives and was free to do as she pleased.

The weekend I was suppose to leave there was a hurricane and my parents debated with me whether they wanted to take me before or after it was supposed to hit. My Dad simply ended up driving me to Wilmington, helping me drag my few possessions up to my dorm room and left. And since then I've learned to make my own home.

I've been home since, but not in the way that I imagined. No, it is not the same. My room was emptied of my things and taken over for new uses. And for holidays I'd rather travel the country to visit my siblings, or have them come see me, then return home. We've parted ways so much, I doubt there's going to be a holiday with all of us, my parents and sisters and brother, cooking and drinking and talking again.

We've all had to adjust. I had to learn how to make my own home, and it is truly mine now. I am free to live the way I want; if that means having a party or not getting home till four in the morning that's my choice and I could never give up my freedom for anything. My parents have had to adjust by realizing that I am an adult now and the need for them to be parents setting out rules or telling me what to do is nonexistent. And my siblings no longer know that I am safely at home and waiting for them to come visit me.

We'll always be close, but home is not my parents' house. It is my house, my possessions, my friends. At some point in the past, my parents made the same change.