“This is a home in Colombia”
She drew this the other day. She hasn’t been to Colombia. And yet it is as real to her as it is to me. While my son is always teasing me he likes Brazil better (looks like this is quite the debate between him and his best buddy Kade, whose roots are from Brazil), she is always reminding me of the place I come from. I guess it must be on my mind…A LOT.
I’m my pursuit for the “perfect home” I’ve came understand that home is where you make it to be and it also easily changes as your circumstances change. I’m sure when I get to go back I will be HOME again.
And although, once in a while, my heart aches as I see how hard it gets (so very hard) being “different” from the norm of what surrounds me and as I see how it gets even more complicated when you are trying to create relationships with those who simply will never get it (call it people in a bubble), HOME is right here, right now. My family is here, my many and true friends are here and everything else that’s shaping my present and future is here.
So, I I’m proud of being Colombian and even more proud of sharing my heritage with my kids. But I am also proud of being American and contributing to a dream that one day came true.