Originally posted on Live Journal: Suburban Eschatology Part Two (March 18, 8:12 PM)
Home… A home is not stuff in a place.
It is not Internet access or Cable TV.
It is not furniture.
It is not a pool or a fireplace.
It is not movies.
It is not washers and dryers.
It is trust and faith and love.
It is purity of self; mind and body.
It is security, safety and wubbies.
It is love.
Home is love.
Home is where we ask, “Are you OK?” before we ask, “Where were you?”
Home is where we feel bad for others before we feel bad for ourselves.
Home is where we run to, not where we run from.
Home is where the boys cry because they will miss their Nana, not because they do not want to be in their own house.
I first wrote and posted this in December of 2004. I reposted it in October of 2009. I think it is worth posting again now... Not a poem, just a doodle.
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