[Photo credit: *MaryElise*]
When I was 9 years old, we moved to a brand new city, away from the apartment that I had known as home since the day I was born.
When I was 10 years old, I was uprooted completely and moved across the ocean to a brand new country…Away from everything I knew as ‘home’.
And now, I’m uprooting my life once again…to define what home is for me but this time, I’m doing it alone. Because for the past 5 years, at least, home hasn’t been this house. It hasn’t been this chaos. I’ve found home in the little things…the times I spend with my brother and dad alone. And every thing that I’ve bought with the purpose to keep me rooted. I’m a very sentimental person. I don’t buy things on impulse usually and everything has a story to it.
So I’m having a real hard time figuring out what to leave behind…because as I move forward to define my own life, I’m afraid that I might not have a home to come back to because this family might fall apart without me. My brother’s promised me that he’ll keep my things safe for me. He knows what every keepsake means to me. But do I give that responsibility to a boy who has enough burdens on him as it is?
The other night, I went through all of my books and put aside hundreds to be sold at a yard sale…because I can’t take them all. I have boxes of pictures…I have posters and flags and little knick-knacks that each have meaning and define a moment in my life.
I feel like if I don’t take the things that matter, I won’t stay rooted no matter where I am. Because when I leave, the turmoil might cause me to be ripped from my extended family. I don’t even know when I’ll go back to Turkey again…
I am redefining home…because apart from Turkey, I don’t know what home is…not really. With every passing year, my family has disintegrated more…pushing me further away. I’ve done all I can to keep myself grounded and not let that part of me fade away.
I know deep in my heart what matters but I’m afraid that without the physical reminders, the memories will fade away.
Maybe I’m just scared.
Because for the first time, I’m redefining ‘home’on my own, thousands of miles away from where I belong.
What is home to you? Do your parents still live in your childhood home where you can go back and see physical reminders of your childhood? Are you sentimentally attached to ‘things’?