No Permanent Address

I enjoy reading on my favorite spot in my house: the balcony overlooking our garden, a good place to observe the clouds at day, the stars by night. From there I can see the mountains of Antipolo, and the busy Cainta roads. Such a comfortable place to read a good book after finishing one’s chores. One day, out of sheer boredom, I decided to try out new places to read, since reading at the same spot over and over again was getting quite bland already.

So I tried to go to our local Church, but it was quite noisy there, as there is an ongoing construction for our new Church, besides, I was getting a pretty good share of ant and mosquito bites. So I tried going to somewhere more peaceful. Luckily, I wandered off to a place with benches to sit on. So I sat and began to read. But when the clouds parted, I was left at the mercy of the midday sun. So again, I searched for a place to read my book. And I came upon the village playground, with trees towering over. So I sat at the seesaw and began to read from where I left off. When I thought I found the perfect place, the children began to come and play, and so I was unable to focus as they were trying to talk to me about stuff little children love to talk about. So the day ended with me finishing just a chapter and disappointed. Tired, I went back to my favorite spot, the same spot that I was getting bored with. Lo and behold, I felt a sense of peace, the peace I kept trying but in vain to seek.

There’s really nothing like home. It’s the place we run to when we’re afraid, the place we turn to for support, the place we seek when we are lost, the place where everything is. A house is but a building with furniture in it. A home, on the other hand, is a family. Really, houses are just plain buildings that house its inhabitants. A home is just a family living together in peace and mutual love. While I sometimes feel like a wanderer without a home, I have always felt the need to finally find one.

I always remember in my heart what it felt to be at home. Words alone cannot bring justice to how it felt. It feels like being at peace with oneself. I’ve been to many places, but not one can compare to the peace I felt at home. When we went abroad once for summer vacation, I can still remember how I felt. Sure, I was awed and bewildered by the scenery, but within me, everything I saw reminded me of home. The trees reminded me of the warm Philippine winds blowing past the lush, green foliage. The moon reminded me of the proud Filipino skies at night. The sunset reminded me of that glorious Manila Bay. The foreign cultures made me think of our unique way of life. The misty mountains made me recall my experiences through Northern Luzon. Everything I saw reminded me of home. In short, I was homesick. I missed the warm feeling of pandesal and hot chocolate in one’s hands, the gentle breezes from the valley at night, the people I’ve grown to love. I even missed the flurry of events going on, that hectic rushour, traffic…

Home is where your heart is, your support system, your fortress, your life. It is where I grew up to become who I am. It taught me the lessons I never learned at school. It is my stronghold from where I attack adversity. It is where I truly live. My physical body lives in a house, but my spirit forever roams across the land, searching for a place to finally call home.

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    For people who love to think.

    Jian Carlo R. Narag, MD

    2005-2017

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