i think i shall begin writing here, i feel that livejournal is too personal, but yet as i write there i feel insecure as some people has returned from like mars to something to start writing there so yeah. i think i am used to a quiet community to share my thoughts. so i shall return here.
over the past 2 years, i am always thinking about the term home. and house. family. i never knew there was a difference between home and house. a home is a house, completed with the warmth of a family. that is where i live in, a home. people or individuals need not have a house to have a home. house is the term when people/society judge based on materialism, do you live in a condo, a flat, bungalow, a dump etc…. however i think some people don’t regard the term home, or even given much thought to what it means.
my mother was the one that enlightened me to the true meaning of a home. when i was just a teenager leaving the house to go out to meet my friends, i usually come back late at night. there was once when she blew her top and said: ” do you treat this place as a home or a house you return to just to eat/sleep/clean yourself? ” she said this in 2010
so over the past year i have read books, that reminds me of this. Room by Emma Donoghue and Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. these two books have made me realize and understand more of the term of a home.
in Room, it is about a little boy and his mom trapped in a room. and when i picture myself there, i feel really trapped and claustrophobic. but what the mother has provided for him is a true homeliness feel that has helped him in the growth process. sometimes i wonder, if i were to grow up with my mother how it would feel now, a greater bond? (i grew up with my grandmothers) will i be well-natured? what exactly would happen? but from this story, it made me envy the relationship the mother and son both had. the tightness and firm bond they had. it was as if they were inseparable, that if one disappeared, the other inevitably would disappear in the matter of time. that is what home would create, and bond for a family.
in Running for Scissors (still reading, 4/5 done), its about Augusten (author himself) from a broken family, being “fostered” by his mother’s psychiatrist. a crazy family the finches are. and he travels back and forth from this mother’s to the finches, basically his upbringing seems screwed…. so what truly is a home i question myself for him, a place where your mother is almost insane? or a place where it seems insane yet the people are halfway mad but are still a family from within? it created this confusion within me. each family is different and you can never really define the perfect family because none are perfect. i have never believed in a perfect family.
i have seen both mom and dad’s side, both are equally messed, equally confused. yet i thank God my family is simple (for now maybe?) but i know before that it was my fault for causing loose gaps between my parents and myself. this period, i always want to remain home, or be home early to be with my mother. every night, i hug her before going to bed. there was one night when i dreamt that my family all passed on. it freaked me out, i woke up to find myself tearing. first time in 17 years i wake up crying from a nightmare. i had a fear from then on.
i have friends that cannot return to a family that would treat them as their precious child. that cannot have a smooth conversation with their parents. i count myself, very, very lucky and fortunate. i would never take my family from granted again. my priorities have swapped positions with one another.
so, what is home without a family? what is a family without bond? what is bond without love?