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Edited on Sat Sep-17-05 12:05 PM by Chalco
This morning I listened to Weekend Edition Saturday. Scott Simon interviewed a gentleman from New Orleans who transported his family to Memphis. Randy Adams, the gentleman in question, said that his children were looking for jobs in Memphis and would probably stay which meant that his grandchildren would be in Memphis.
So, Mr. Adams and his wife had a decision to make: should they stay in Memphis or go home. Home being New Orleans and the house he said he had thought he would die in. It was without a doubt a beautiful interview but the last sentence he uttered has staying in my mind and my heart. Scott Simon had asked him what home meant.
Mr. Adams said (I'm paraphrasing) "...and it's the place I had to ask my son 4 times to take out the garbage before he would do it."
His words brings tears to my eyes as I type this. Home is where all the mundane things occur. It's where our deepest memories are.
I have lived in this house since 1980. It is my home. The city I live in is not a national treasure like New Orleans and nobody would miss it, but it is my city. This home in my city is where I tiled the bathroom, where I painted the walls, where I decided to have a child, where I got married, where I was a witness to my child's everything, where I am.
In times of trouble in my own life and when I was between homes I would comfort myself by saying to myself "Home is where you are. You are at home within your body. Home is right here where you are."
I wish for all of us to feel at home. :grouphug:
The following, hopefully, is a shortcut to Scott Simon's piece. If I've done it wrong, perhaps someone else could post it.
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