The dictionary has an array of definitions for home. They range anywhere from describing a place that one occupies, especially as part of a family unit all the way to home plate baseball. But as for me I like a different definition, a place where something is most commonly found and flourishes. That is what I think of when I think home. But borrowing some of Shane's thoughts I wonder if I would consider Alameda home if the people I love there weren't living there anymore. If my family moved to Saunook, NC (yes its a real place. Thank you google maps) would that become home to me? If all of my friends in the Bay no longer lived there would that be home to me? If yes, then I suppose since I grew up in the Bay that forms a common bond and recogniztion as home. If no, then is home where ever you find yourself with the people that matter most to you? Or is a hybrid of both. I'm not trying to prove anything to myself or to whoever is reading this. Rather I am just trying to go on a journey through thought.
I know home by sounds: a cable car's bell, sea gulls, the sound of the waves hitting against the rocks and sand, a fog horn, church bells ringing at noon, the buses pulling away from the curb.
I know home by smell: Salty air, smog, grass fields.
I know home by feel: broken sidewalks, dirty handrails, wet sand, smooth concrete, the feel of wind pushing against my face.
I know home by taste: Garlic Fries at At&T, Vegatarian Nachos at La Pin, Margs (Papa Turs reciepe, of course), heart shaped cinnamon sugar waffles, guppies, Boudin chili, anything Italian.
I know home by sight: the memories of friends and places fill my mind and heart and continue the replay there until new ones are added.
If. And Then.
15 years ago
1 comment:
Joe you do such a good job of summing up our lives at home; the section on food really honestly touched me just now, i have such dear feelings for alot those foods. dear feelings for food.
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