One's destination is never a place but a new way of seeing things. -Henry Miller

A Taste of Home for the Holidays

I apologize that it’s been so long since I’ve updated, but I was engrossed in a bit of traveling and I had a two-week stint of visitors which was quite delightful.  I’m going to try to back track to where I last updated, but it feels so long ago that things will probably be more brief, as I can’t easily conjour up my feelings for the most authentic blog post.

My family came to Spain for Christmas, and it was so great to spend time with them for a week. It was nice to have quality time together as it was our first family vacation in a decade and I’m unsure when we will all be together again.

It was so comforting to be around people who know me so well.  During their visit (as mentioned in a previous post), we went to the Alhambra:

The precursor statement to this photo was: "What does Alhambra taste like?"

Visited a monastery in Granada:

Me and my daddy

We also walked around the city, and saw the beautiful Granada cathedral:

Mis padres.

For Christmas Eve, when everything was closed, we had a picnic in the hotel of bread, cheese, fruit, and the delicious Spanish ham.

We also went to Jerez de la Frontera for a vineyard tour of Tio Pepe sherry, saw the highlights of Sevilla, and went to the famous Museo del Prado in Madrid. All wonderful. Unfortunately, my camera battery died and I was not equipped with my charger, so I have no photos of these experiences.

As a young woman, and also as the youngest in family, I have been doing a lot of reflecting on the transformation of my family over the past few years. I moved to Spain, one of my brothers moved to Illinois, and how I feel when I am in the house I grew up is much different than I once did.  What is “home”? Spain doesn’t feel like home. My parent’s house feels safe, but it doesn’t necessarily feel like “home” anymore either. I wonder when the next time will be that I will feel rooted to a certain place.  I’m starting to believe that home is more of a feeling than a location. Being with my brothers and parents feels like home. Sharing a laugh with friends feels like home.

I have a quote taped to my mirror in my apartment, and it has become truer as I grow older.

Home is wherever you are if there’s love there, too.

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2 responses

  1. Aww yeah living at your parent’s house when you’ve graduated from college: does not feel like home. Word. Also, picture of you and ur dad in that mirror: so cute! I’m glad you had tons of fun even though my bitterly jealous nature means I’ll hold it against you for awhile! great looking pictures! Kisses!~

    January 9, 2011 at 3:04 pm

  2. Aw boo face! This was such a lovely post. The whole home concept is so strange isn’t it? Liane and I were talking about it a while back. Basically, when she just got to Hawaii and I was coping with being on my own we spent time trying to decipher existence. We talked about it for a while and figured out that home was New Brunswick. Even though we would complain all the time about this city, there was no where else in my life that I felt so at home, and it was because that’s where we all lived together. Its about having the knowledge and know-how to command the environment you’re in and having that safety net of people who care about you to catch you when you fall. That’s what home means to me… Now you’ve inspired a blog post!! Thanks ❤

    January 9, 2011 at 7:36 pm

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