Sunday, March 6, 2011

If home is where my heart is, then home is in Dubai with my son, on the island with Lars, my brother and my father, in Squamish where my sister, nieces, nephew and my company are.  Home is also in Ontario where my other siblings reside.  They say that home is where the heart is… but what if your heart is shattered, in pieces all over the place? Where does that really leave you?

Could the concept of home be as abstract as to be a temporary concept?

I have a fever.  My head hurts.  My throat and ears ache.  I’m sick.  It’s fully possible I’m thinking in circles.  I blame the snow.

But I’m back on the island… back home.  I didn’t tell Lars I was coming (a week or so earlier than planned).  He had made plans for the boys to come visit for the weekend, and I felt a little like I crashed their boy-party because of it.  I made jello-shots to make up for it (and to test them in preparation for my birthday party coming up), and spent the rest of the time (for the most part) in bed trying to fight off this illness. They had a good time just the same.  And… I like knowing that Lars gets love from all directions, even when I’m not here.

Lars was happy to see me.  When he told Lance I’d surprised him, Lars responded to Lance’s “UhOh” with, “No man, it’s a good thing.”  I guess it’s hard for most people to understand that for the most part, Lars and I like each other, enjoy each other, and want to be around one another…  I thought the ‘UhOh’ was cute, for what it’s worth.

0 words of wisdom:


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No matter where I am, I'm lost and learning to like it. I'm a living contradiction, and the best lies I tell are the ones I tell myself.
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