Home Is Where The Heart Is

I've always been a go-getter and pre-illness would use my house primarily for a bed.  It wasn't unusual for me to go from work to coffee with a friend to a bike ride to dinner, only to go home to sleep.  I would schedule occasional days or evenings at home to relax & chill, do laundry, get caught up on bills, etc; only to begin the cycle again.

Lately, however, I love being home.  Home is where I can be me.  Unquestionably me.  At home my husband tells me I'm beautiful if I'm dressed up with make-up or if I'd had on jammie's all day.  At home my son crawls in my lap to read a book & say, "I Love You Mommy" whether I'm in bed or I'm up and about.  At home my cat loves to sit on my lap and sleep curled up on my legs -- she doesn't care if I weigh 130 pounds, 160 pounds or 190 pounds.  At home my dog licks my hand and lays at my feet whether or not I have the energy to take her for a walk.

Outside of home - this unconditional love does not exist.  People judge for what they think you should be; what they think you should do.  So ... these days I'd much rather stay home.

They say "Home Is Where The Heart Is", but I say
"My Heart is Where My Home Is"