Where the Heart Is

I came home yesterday to help my nephew Nathan catch up with schoolwork.  He’s home from the hospital but not ready to go back to school yet.  So now I’m homeschooling three boys who would rather not have me as their teacher.  Good times!

Thoughts on going home:

When I tell people that I’m going home to see my parents, they often say, “I thought your parents lived in Virginia.”

“Right,” I explain, “My parents live in Virginia.  But I still call it home.”

“Isn’t your home here in Massachusetts with your husband and kids?” they reply, on occasion with a note of judgment.

Of course I consider my house in Cambridge with Jeff and the boys my home.  And when I am in Virginia and want to tell people that I am returning to Cambridge, I say that “I need to get back home.”

It’s just that I will always consider my parents’ house my home.  If they move to Boca someday (which is in no way a suggestion), then when I go to visit, I’ll say that I’m going home.

If home is where the heart is, then my home is with my parents.  And my sisters, and their families.  And Jeff.  And Zach and Ezra.

Which may have a lot to do with why I homeschool.  It hasn’t proved to be a lot of fun yet. But my boys are there.  Along with my heart.

About Tara Edelschick

Right now, Tara is on sabbatical in Costa Rica. She is sleeping more, and exercising and flossing every day for the first time in her life. She is enjoying her husband, her boys, and Nafisa (the daughter she never had) more than she ever has. And she is learning to rest in the arms of the one who doesn't rank you based on how many things you can cross off your list at the end of the day. Follow her on Twitter@TaraWonders.

  • Andrea Cohn

    But what if your parents lived in Toledo? Could you really call that home?

  • Marilyn

    This one brought a smile of memory to me… My grandmother lived more than 40 years in Chicago, but she was ALWAYS from Baltimore! :-)


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