The 3-day 2-night stay here at my parents house is almost over. We're only hours away from leaving so here I go, writing about being back here.
While doing the dishes today, I realized that the look of my parents' kitchen has changed a lot. There was a lot of new stuff and I felt crammed in it. I was confused about where I was gonna put back everything I washed and something hit me and it hit me hard. I was surprised to find myself a little lost in my parents' house's kitchen. It used to be my kitchen too. This used to be my house too. But when I got married I moved out and since then I've only been a visitor here. I visitor in the place I used to call home.
And I still like to call it home. Everytime I come here I can't help but feel a little pain, knowing that I don't live here anymore. I miss waking up to my mom's hearty breakfast, the morning routine of going to my parents room on weekends to find my little sister sleeping soundly, girl talks with my other sister before bedtime, talking to the family dog which I rarely even see anymore, having lazy hours of sleeping through the afternoon bundled up in a comforter with the hum of the airconditioner in the background... things like that. Of course I will always be welcome to stay, but things are different now. The look and feel of this house has changed although I could find comfort in the fact that the love has doubled.
Iaine is here now and everytime we come to visit, my family goes gaga over her. She's like the glue of the family, making our bond tighter. We may not always be together, but Iaine is there to fill the gap.
Family members may come and go and a house may be demolished or built, but I realized that whatever happens to a house, as long as love is the center of it all, it's a home.
I can't wait to come back here to stay for longer.