Last year during the holiday season, my mother told me, "Home is where our family is." This was after the decision my parents made to take a vacation to New York for Christmas and New Year's Eve. I was quite reluctant, at first, to be away from home during this time - but like I said, this was only at first. The experience was incredible and the memories I made with my family were ones I will always look back on in delight.
We stood, miniscule little ants to the Rockafeller Plaza Christmas tree, together in an atmosphere that only one of us had ever experienced before. There were hundreds of nameless faces, the majority of them I'm sure could not call themselves native New Yorkers like us, a simple hot chocolate was far overpriced and the air was BIT-TER - but I felt home at that moment, mesmerized by the Christmas spirit with the two people whom I owe everything to. My mom was right, I felt at home - home was where we were, together, regardless of our physical location.
Right now (10:35 p.m. on Friday, Nov. 19, 2010) I am watching the recorded boxing match of Manny Pacquiao vs. Antonio Margarito. Besides the fact that I am, indeed, sitting at home on my couch with my parents as we grimace and yell at the TV screen, the atmosphere or TV program are not what make me feel 'home-y'. The strings of questions on my well-being; comments on my future; making it ABSOLUTELY clear that I am well-fed; seeing my mom resting her head on my dad's shoulder as he uses his other arm to gesture at every uppercut shot; eating my dad's favorite pistachio ice cream - these are the components of a situation that make me feel inherently comfortable and create my home at heart.
In light of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, let's just say I am incredibly thankful for my family. Their unrelenting concern for me oftentimes seem to burden me, but they show their love for me. Give thanks to them and to He who gives us all the strength to go on.
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