Ngala-Najla

I Celebrate Myself…

Home…

Leave a comment

Countee Cullen once wrote, “What is Africa to me?” from his beautiful poem entitled “Heritage.” This poem came to mind when I thought of home today. What is home to me?

Going home this week will be different from the other times I have gone home since leaving for college ten years ago (dang!), this time will be different. I have accepted not just my family but me within my family–our quirkiness, our beauty, our love. I am thankful for them and for the lessons that I learned because of them. I see beauty in the struggles my parents have gone through, and although we do not see eye to eye on some things, from politics to religion, they love me.

So what is home? Home is a place where at the end of the day you are accepted for not what you do, or whom you do or do not love. It is not a place where there is peace and tranquility all the time. It is the look in your mother’s eyes, swelling with pride as she introduces you to a new co-worker or friend. It is the giggles of your nephew who cannot get enough of his favorite aunt bouncing him on her knee. It is the acceptance of yourself that your family is apart of you and you of them.

The beauty of this uniqueness cannot be replicated elsewhere, your home is unique to you—it adds to your own splendor. The beauty of home is evident in the fact that over ten years ago when I announced to my family that I stopped eating beef and pork, and my mom said, “Well you not eating this Thanksgiving,” to her now making sure that Borca Burgers are in the freezer for our 4th of July BBQ in the backyard. It is evident in my mom making me my own special dish of turkey lasagna for Thanksgiving or my dad giving me oodles of blankets because, “it gwan get cole yu know,” before I left for grad school. So, I give thanks for my home…

Advertisements

Author: ngalanjala

I Have Learned So much from God That I can no longer Call Myself A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, A Buddhist, a Jew. The Truth has shared so much of Itself With me That I can no longer call myself A man, a woman, an angel, Or even pure Soul. Love has Befriended Hafiz so completely It has turned to ash And freed Me Of every concept and image My mind has ever known. ~ Hafiz ~

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s