And your heart starts feeling at home; that place is not geographic, not tangible at all… it’s something you feel filling your insides, “fueling” you, embracing you, allowing you to flow.It comes with the souls that are deeply connected to yours and meet you wherever you are, holdinng your hand, looking at you, even discussing with you, just to remind you how does home feel like.
I never imagined crossing back the Athlantic with another destination different from “home”; going actually far away from the places in the world that have that name for me…it doesn’t matter, an armonious voice said softly, you will be still going home, or at least touching one part of it…
And I am, I am touching it through an 85 years old woman who has the legs tired and though skin after all the challenges in her journey, but a light in her eyes I have never seen in any other person; I am tasting it through her hand when it holds mine looking for support while walking, or her eye contact telling me she would give her life to continue but her body needs to stop and her legs are not strong enough.
It’s through you, Grandma, I can feel not only a piece of that home that became a beautiful puzzle, but the huge love fountain you have inside. I can’t even imagine the size, I just have the priviledge to receive what you are pouring since I needed to hold your hand to start looking up, to stand on my tiny legs when they did not know how to walk… When they were not strong enough.