HOME
“Home is where your heart is” goes the saying, and I left mine years ago.
My family and I stayed in “The House” for nearly 400 years.
The spirits of our past literary lived in the walls of “Home”.
The Souls of the relatives walked among the rooms, always…knowing “what is best for you” or even what underwear you’re in.
Their advices, harsh and old-fashioned eventually never ended up heard by us, but sometimes they were persuasive and proved their points, sometimes, we…as a family had to obey.
I was…well, still is a white crow in the family, there were some of us that way birthed among the centuries of course, and every single of us tried to break the chain of the everlasting family “love”. No one made it fat then the entrance gate.
I made it. The first one, and I’m tremendously proud of it.
I sit on the beach and ocean washes my sore feet, nails are covered in hot white sand, hawaiian waters are meant for this, I guess. My tired skin, weighted of memories and mistakes of the past, bathe in waters of blessed ones, and i look forward to this new beginning.
Now, my whole being knows “the home is where your heart is” and mine is here on the sand — open, bleeding, melting…
