Home is where the heart is… and with that definition, I have two homes, one in England, and one in Bali, as I have family in both places. Two separate families, one I was born in to, and the other which I have created. The two do not really mix, unfortunately, and this has been a source of much of my confusion. I am coming to terms with it, and as I grow older I have learned that there are no perfect families, all have skeletons in their closet. I just need to figure out how to keep everyone happy…sometimes at the expense of my own happiness. I wish it was not so hard…
I am in the process of building a new home and with each brick, attempting to rebuild myself. It is going to be beautiful, and I know I will love being there. The energy is great, and the ideas in my head are numerous. I just hope my children will feel it too, and will always come home.
My son is about to embark on a new chapter of his life. He is 18 and is venturing out in to the big wide world. Having grown up in a small island it is a scary prospect, but he is excited and I am too. Much as I would love to hold on to him forever, he needs to spread his wings and explore the world. Maybe he will also end up with two homes in two different countries. If he does, I am determined to make sure the bridge between them is easy to cross, for all involved.
My doors and windows will always be open, as will my arms, for all my children to come home…that’s the way it should be