Home ❤️
Ever since I lost my mum and we had our family home taken away from us, I’ve had a lot of difficulty identifying with the term ‘home’. Because to me, home was visiting my mum, it was eating her Syrian dishes, it was having chai and watermelon in the garden in the summer. It was seeing which new plants she had bought; making apple juice straight from the apple tree she had planted, using herbs in our cooking that she had grown. It was giving her massages in bed, it was having movie nights all together as a family. Home was knowing I would be woken up in the middle of the night by my mum’s cat Chunk - gently touching my eyes with his paws to get me to get up and feed him. And I did, I loved doing so.
I have since had to re-define the term into something less linked to a person or building and more linked to a feeling. A feeling of comfort, of warmth and of safety. Somewhere where you are able to be in pain and to heal on your own terms without fear of judgement.
I know there are so many people around the world like me without parents who must also feel like they don’t have a ‘true’ home. And that they don’t belong anywhere. Christmas in particular is usually a very difficult time for those grieving because all around you, all you see is people going ‘home’ for Christmas, going home in essence usually to visit and be with their parents. Ones we don’t have anymore. That will always be very hurtful, however I promise there is also always hope and that you can build upon many other things to create a home that is comfortable for you and your sensitivities. Things that warm your heart and remind you of your loved ones. Things that inspire you to want to continue to heal and grow as a human being.
Love,
Yamine
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