Part 2 of the “Home” series
In spite of the fact that the first thing you hear is, Sure feel like escaping, so I hit the road, that’s not what I’m getting at. I believe that with Falls’ “Home” there are many interpretations. One obvious one for me is that of someone who ran away or at least deliberately decided to leave and then much later on realizes the value of home.
That would be a suitable interpretation, of course.
Though I did not run away or feel like escaping (as they sing), I did deliberately (but prayerfully and thoughtfully) make the decision to leave home and move to El Salvador and volunteer with Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos. As I mentioned in the first “Home” series post, I discovered through several experiences and over several years just what home means to me.
Home is not solely a tangible thing. It is not just a physical object, a pile of bricks with paint and glass and flowers out front. It is also the moment when you are surrounded by those you love. That moment or that special grouping of individuals doesn’t have to occur within a house.
On Easter Vigil night, I ventured out to the cancha (soccer field) while the boys were bringing out the cafeteria benches and setting up for the Easter sunrise Mass. That in itself was a comical and memorable experience, listening to some of them gripe at each other or argue about how to best set things up all while working with a few flashlights and very little light from the church’s floodlights, haha. There are no streetlights on the way to the field nor are there lights at the field. The field was in near darkness, save for the stars and sliver of moon. So, I found myself looking up at the sky. So big and so endless and so full of stars. I know that Tennessee is beautiful and that we have breathtaking views, but there is something about being in El Salvador, about being the person that I have become, that makes this sky view so much more special to me than any others I have seen.
We are far enough away and out in the country that I can’t see any lights from Santa Ana (the big city nearby) when I’m in the main part of the ciudadela (as we call it…which is to say, the main NPH campus); though, we do have our fair share of streetlights lining the roads and sidewalks that connect the houses and other buildings. Even in the cancha, one can see a few blinking tower lights and a small pocket of light from a nearby small town. However, the majority of the view is unobstructed by artificial structures, and light pollution is nonexistent.
Anyway, as the boys finished, only a few of them hung around to help with last minute tasks. While I was gazing at the sky, I started to pay attention to the three year of service boys standing a few feet away from me who weren’t actually doing any work, ha. “We’re supervising.” “Yeah…yeah! That’s right, we’re supervising.” Haha. They were cracking jokes, laughing, and having a merry old time standing in complete darkness. At that moment when I tuned in to their shenanigans, I realized I could tell the difference between the 3 of them though I could not see their faces: Wilfrido’s* almost high-pitched, infectious giggle that cracks me up every time; Abraham’s* serious and somber tone that masks a very funny and quick sense of humor; Alfonso’s* sarcastic quips and drawn out sentences pocketed with bouts of near silent laughter.
All 3 very different forms of expressing joy. All 3 forms united in one great big cacophony of joy and laughter. It was music to my ears. In that moment, I felt like my chest had grown in size, like my heart was about to burst. I was just so overwhelmed with how much I love them, these brothers of mine. I was overwhelmed with how at ease and how much at home I felt just by being able to hear them.
And oh when those city lights are blinding, back across the bridge. Back into acceptance that this is where I live.
While there aren’t many city lights (as in, none) near NPH or even near my parents’ house and certainly not near my grandparents’ house, these “blinding lights” that draw me back toward home are people.
Just like my sisters, parents, and grandparents back in Tennessee as well as other loved ones in different states, I felt and feel like those 3 boys that Saturday night were lights pulling me in the direction of home. With and around them, I too feel loved. They are the blinding city lights that tell me I am home, that I am accepted.
And I know, yeah I know, it all comes back the moment I get home.
When I arrive at a place or moment when I am surrounded by the people that I love, I am reminded that I am home. The interestingly beautiful thing for me is that I have multiple places and many “city lights” with which to draw me home.
Many lights are put in our lives to help us get where we need to be. The blinding lights, at least for me, are the ones that guide me home and that lead me to the people that I love, wherever in the world that may be.
There’s song #2 in the Home series. There’s only one left! Stay tuned for that finalizing post to what’s been a fun series to write.
Don’t forget to give “Home” by Falls a listen on the main page. It’s a nice tune!
*Names changed to protect the pequeños’ privacy.