I just returned to Penang, Malaysia from a 7-week friends and family tour of the USA. It was good to be there, and it's good to be home.
I started in Los Angeles, then on to Santa Fe, Tampa (kind of), Charlotte, and Baltimore. I slept in hotels and the extra room in my children's homes.
I drove unfamiliar cars in equally unfamiliar cities. I Lyfted, Uber'ed, and airlined. I ate whatever food was available, put before me, or that I cooked. I learned new remote controls and how to cast to TV. I met my childrens' neighbors, relatives, and co-workers. I chauffeured, read stories, and carried groceries.
I loved every moment of it, even though it was disorienting at the same time. It was long (maybe too long) and yet it flew by in the blink of an eye.
The best parts included spending an extended amount of time with my grandchildren. They are now more comfortable with me around and not just someone on Facetime. Oh, how beautiful they are!
I loved being there when my granddaughters got their ears pierced. And when grandsons giggled their way to bedtime. When one got special hair highlights and another tries out for the college orchestra. And the long discussions about life, jobs, and choices with the adults.
But, now I'm home. And, yes, Penang, Malaysia feels like it is in my soul for the foreseeable future.
So what makes a home, home?
Ah, home. I'm grateful.
Certified Body Code Practitioner, life coach and energy healer, former non-profit executive with years of experience in caring for and about people and their place in this world. Friend of refugees and immigrants, ally to the addiction recovery community--all with respect, love, and compassion for mutual healing.