Home is where the heart is.
If that statement is true, so is the following. Our heart is protected by ("in") our ribs, which means....home is in our ribs? That makes sense on 2 levels--God created Eve from Adam's rib in the Garden of Eden. So home in that sense is directly related to God, which is no surprise. But on the basic human level, if home is in our ribs, and ribs are bones, then home is in our bones, which is a neat concept.
Think about it: how many times have you heard people say they are "chilled to the bone" or that they can "feel the warmth in their bones" or even that they're "aching way down in my bones". All three of these statements can relate to innumerable original causes--people can be chilled to the bone when they watch a scary movie, when the temperature gets below 32-degrees Fahrenheit, when someone they thought loved them gives them the "cold shoulder" (a colloquialism that is interesting in and of itself)--people can feel the warmth in their bones when it is warm outside, when someone compliments them on a job well done, when another being (human or dog or cat, etc.) demonstrates unconditional love-people can be aching way down in their bones when they are dealing with arthritis, when they experience an unfulfilled promise, when a loved one passes away and they didn't get a chance to say good-bye.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I think the underlying factor in each of these "bone" analogies is today's word: home. So, home as applied to my personal life is defined below.
"Home" has always been a baffling concept to me. I know that my home for 22+ years was with my immediate family, in our house, and with the love and guidance of my Christian parents and the camaraderie I had with my brother and sister. When I was 8 (15 years ago), we moved from the house I considered "home" to the house my parents and sister still inhabit. I never in my life thought that house would become home when we first made the move, but at some indeterminable point in middle school or high school or earlier, that house and neighborhood became the only home I considered such. I then went to college, and a strange phenomenon occurred--when I would leave campus for Ashland every 4th or 5th weekend, I would tell my friends I was going home for the weekend. But when I was leaving Ashland to go back to Centre, I would often say to my family in Ashland that I needed to get on the road so I could get home before it got dark (home here meaning college).
Four years I spent in this world where the word "home" applied to not just one, but two places. Then I got married, and was really confused. I knew (and still know) that my home is with Roger. But what do I make of the fact that I say "Let's hurry up and finish shopping, I want to get home and watch Netflix with your mom and Bill" when we are running errands on a visit to West Virginia to see Rog's side of the family? What do I call the place where my parents and sister still live? It seems that should also be home out of habit, but my home with Roger is my actual home now, and it is amazing beyond measure!
Have I confused you yet? I hope not. It all boils down to this: in any place I have ever considered home--Nottingham Ct., Centre College, Iroquois Ave., Stealey Ave., or anywhere else--home is the place where I can feel chilled to the bone, where I can feel an aching way down in my bones, and feel the warmth in my bones--sometimes I feel each independent of the others, but there are also times I can feel all three (chilled, aching, warmth) concurrently, and I call that phenomenon "feeling LOVE radiating in my bones", and where is the place everyone feels love the most?? No matter what your definition of the place is, there is one answer.
Yep. Home.
-Becca
