Going Home…Twice.

 

There are few things like returning home.  I am fortunate in that whenever I go to Hawaii, I am going                         home whether I am on my way there, or on the way back to Colorado.  It seems that I am of two                                   worlds.

On the one hand, I have lived on the Mainland for most of my life, only returning to Hawaii for visits.  I never lived in the Islands for more than a year at a time, but I always think of it as home.  On the other hand, I have a whole life in Colorado.  A son who has never seen Oahu, and friends who have known me most of my life…all in Colorado Springs.  So, Colorado is undoubtedly home as well.  Is it possible to have more than one home?  I am inclined to say yes.

You see, whenever I am in the Islands, I look around me and think…”Yes.  These are my people.  This is where I’m from.” I walk into a restaurant, and the white guy is finally the one sticking out like a sore thumb, and I am the one just blending in.  The food here is like it was tailored to my tastes, and the sound of locals talking is like distant music to me.  I hear the cacophony of downtown Honolulu…the sirens, the hopped-up Honda exhaust…the music (hip-hop, traditional and Jawaiian sounds sifting through the valleys and alleyways).  The humid air carrying with it green and pink floral scents from the mountain.  And, yes, the distant sift and crash of the ocean that permeates everyone and everything here.  Island people tend to be more considerate, more polite.  There is only so much room here, so people try to get along.

In Colorado, though it’s different.  I feel homey-ness because it’s what I’m used to.  I know damn near everything there is to know about Colorado Springs.  All the best places to eat, all the stories behind the buildings…and pretty much everyone.  Or if I don’t know someone, I know someone who does.

My son, house, job, friends, dad, dog and everything else are at the base of the mountains in Colorado.  I love the feel of the air there.  I love the fact that the mountains are always west.  I even love the cold months of the year when I’m warm and cozy in the house, my son on my lap and Bailee dog asleep on my feet.

So the question remains.  Can you have more than one home?  I say, yes.  I think you can have as many homes as you have room in your heart.  Think about the first time you went back to you parent’s house after you’ve moved out.  You’re going home, in your head, both ways.

In the end, Home is where you feel comfortable.  Be it a friend’s house, a state, or even a person.

Post Author: Kyodai

1 thought on “Going Home…Twice.

    Katrina Cunha

    (July 22, 2009 - 10:20 pm)

    Hey Spence, I missed reading your blogs. This one was really good and made me think about what home is to me. I think you can definitely have more than one home. I know that to me, home is many different things.

    Sometimes home is my parents’ house, with me making a pot of coffee for Mom and I to enjoy while we talk about everything and nothing, a place where I still don’t ever ask before I raid the fridge.

    For a long time, you & Eric’s place felt like home to me. I think it was because I knew that you and the guys would never let any harm come to me while I was there. I knew I was loved and protected, and that always felt like home.

    Other times, home is more of a feeling than a place. When I’m feeling lost, just hearing my father’s voice can bring me home. And seeing the morning sun gradually lighting up our mountains always feels like home.

    These days, home is as much about who is with me as where I am. Right now I’m relaxing on the couch with my sweet old Allie cat snoring by my side and my husband and son both deep asleep upstairs. The windows are open and every now and then I can hear the breeze dancing through the aspens, and I can’t help but sigh and think how much I love being home.

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