My nephew comes and stays with me once every week or so for the night and then I take him to school. There’s one constant every time he comes to stay with me and even when he’s not staying but when he’s just here for a visit, he walks in the door and starts getting comfortable. Even as the door is opening he’s stripping his coat and by the time he’s three feet in the door, his shoes are off and he plops down on my couch and is in for the night. After he walks in, he’s got a couple places that he likes to sit. I’ve got a glider rocker that he loves to spin around and around in and I’ve recently acquired a new loveseat that Trevor thinks is just about Heaven with cushions.
What gets me is that this happens every time. Every time he comes in the door. What I love about it is that he feels comfortable. He loves being at my house, and he’s comfortable. Maybe it’s that fact that he’s six so that makes things easier, but I love the fact that he feels like he has a place here. I’ve got my favorite seat in my house. I can sit across from him and watch him spin around and around in that chair or snuggle up with a blanket on the couch and watch his favorite movie. Having him comfortable and happy at my house just makes my day better.
I go to different friends’ homes quite frequently, and there’s always a spot there for me wherever I go. It’s not always the same spot in the house, but whenever I’m there, there’s always a spot for me. I feel loved and cared for every time I’m there. The thing is is that I don’t even have to be sitting in a home with my friends, but as long as I’m with them, I’m home. I love it that I have a place.
We have a lot in common, but we don’t have everything in common. We like some of the same movies, foods, activities, but we don’t like all of the same things. It doesn’t matter what we have in common or what we don’t have in common. What matters is that we love each other, and when we’re together, we’re home.