That post, which I initially found on the Backstreet Boys Instagram, sent me into a very weird spiral yesterday. Not sure why, but I'm pretty sure it's because I've been trying to figure out what "Home" is for the past two months.
See, home used to look like this:
But then November 8 happened. The Camp Fire came and destroyed it.
So I have been trying for a while now to figure out what exactly "Home" looks like, feels like, sounds like. After seven weeks we are finally in a new house. We have all new furniture, all new everything. And yet, I'm still not sure if it feels like home. It's getting there. Getting back into routines is helping. But I'm just not sure. I mean, how do you define home when everything was taken away?
I guess for me, the simplest thing to define home is this picture:
These two munchkins lounging on our new couch together. My mom and I worked so hard to try and find a home for them. We didn't want them to be in a trailer long term. We didn't want to rebuild because it's toxic up there.
I guess that is going to be part of the process of moving forward. Weird things are going to trigger the emotions. Never would've thought it would be something so simple.
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