It was fun hanging with him, his awesome wife and the kids. Our reunion made me realize that home was in fact where the heart was. If by heart, you meant the core, the essence, the center of where you are at.
All of the people who are at the core are the people who jumped to the forefront, climbed right up into the co-pilot's seat and shared a chapter of the ride. Whenever you share an experience with other people that 'get' you, your bond is linked to the core. As nomads, J and I are lucky to have tight friends from every stop along the way. Sometimes, the life arc of someone at your core spins them back into contact.
Both Rich and I are back teaching in the middle east. The reconnect is done. For the years in between, Skype and Facebook keep you linked to your core. Home is my status update?
Rich and I had our oldests born in Saudi at the same hospital.
Who gets the paperwork of a "Certificate of Birth Abroad" document in 2000 in Saudi Arabia better than Rich and I? "Do you have translation, my friend?"
Dubai is my residence and we keep making our Villa #23 more of a home. Day by day, it rolls into our family's hearts as the core of life in Dubai.
Home is where I planted a garden.
Home is where I watch the sunrise.
Where I can unmask.
It is the background in photos.
Hey Guero, home is where I park the Pajero.
Home is where I milk the camel.
It is the place we pulled into cheering, happy to be home, after one night of camping on the other side of the United Arab Emirates.
Home is where I built the desk I am typing this self-indulgent blog from.
Villa 23 is for me. Home is where we reside with the ones we love. Our core.
Mr. William Joel once said, "I need you in my house cause you're my home."
Home is where the fart is?
Rome piss bear the start fizz?
Chrome bliss where the show biz?
Home is where the heart is.
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