Home is where the heart is — and more
I returned to Beijing the other day from two weeks back home in the United States.
When I arrived at New York’s Kennedy Airport, I said to myself, “Ah, home”.
During the trip, I stayed with two daughters, Karen, with her dogs and plants in a small suburban New York apartment; and Aimee and her husband Luis, four young daughters, Emily, Riley, Zoe and Sadie, and a cat in a far larger Florida house in the shadows of Walt Disney World.
In one, I had a bed; in the other, a room.
It’s funny, there’s an old saying that goes “Home is where the heart is.”
I was a guest at both places yet at both I felt, “Ah, home”.
I visited with my three other daughters, Kim, Jennifer and Melissa, as well as with an aunt, cousins, friends and former colleagues.
My wife Catherine and I traveled to beautiful beaches, windy cityscapes, shops, restaurants, diners. It was exhausting at times.
Then, sooner than one would like, it was over. Back on the Hainan Airlines flight to China for 15 hours. There were airport layovers lasting nearly as long as that flight, going in both directions. Finally, touchdown at Beijing Capital International Airport and the bus ride to the gate, the quibbling with late-night cabbies about the fare for a ride back to the apartment and the light traffic on the airport expressway and Fourth Ring Road.
I walked from the street, dragging two suitcases and a backpack, and made it to the apartment building, the elevator and the door to my place.
When I walked in, I said to myself, “Ah, home”.
I realized then that home, that place where the heart is supposed to be, is back in the States. But when I’m here, a piece of that heart is here as well.
Home is where the heart is. But it is so much more. It is what you make of it. Here, it’s an apartment in a faraway land. I am creating stories here, tales really, living adventures few US citizens have lived and meeting people — wonderful people — whom I never would have had the pleasure of meeting had I remained working in New York.
Before writing this, I walked back to my apartment from work, straightened things up and relaxed. When it came to me:
Ah, home.