• Eimear Stassin

Day 15 ~ Home

It's Day 15 of the Be Yourself Writing Challenge with Megan Macedo.

Today’s prompt is to write the truth about something you previously told a bad and inauthentic story about.


The wind gusts as darkness falls outside my window just now. Framing a tall beech tree, naked with a few brown leaves still clinging on. Thick branches thinning out to small twigs waiting for the promise of Spring to fully sprout and grow.


I can see a pylon beyond, electricity lines, and another pylon. Standing as tall as the trees, unmoved as electricity flows. A siren, loud and slow. A deep deep hum of traffic. A constant background noise mimics the storage heater inside my room. Like an apologetic roar.


Earlier a member of staff dropped by with a key. The back door key. For a quick escape?


Number 12 is nailed to my door with a picture above containing a sign post titled 'La Croix'. The Cross. Across the hall by the staircase is a bigger sign 'HOME'.


This isn't my home.


I casually picked up a leaflet this morning before my training. So surprised by its contents. Ghosts of monks; children and unusual sightings have been seen in the locality; an article of the witches of Witham. Not what I expected in the reception of a Financial Services firm.


The taxi driver afterwards confirms that Essex is indeed the most haunted county in England.


I check into my hotel. One adult I say, not two as it says on my reservation.


I'm feeling very uneasy. Alienated. The pictures on the wall are not my pictures. Of people that I do not know. Places I have not been.


And yet it's not just all of that.


It's the fact that I am working away from home for the next 4 days. It's an adventure.


But, this isn't my home.


Home is the warmth of my family.

Home is the smiles and stories of everyone's days.

Home is the tears of tiredness from my youngests' day.

That he shared on the phone just now.

Home is the everyday ordinariness of all of this.

Home is the extra-ordinary small moments.

Home contains my slippers.

Home contains my roots.

Home contains the heartbeat.

Where the rhythm and flow of family life

belongs.


It's a paradox. A paradox of life. In one place whilst yearning to be in an other.

"May there come across the waters a path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home." - John O'Donohue

Where is your home?


#21DaysOfReflections Day 15

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