Where is your home?
Is it the place where you eat and sleep?
Where the wife and kids are?
I have never figured it out.
The only place I’ve felt like home
was where I was born and lived the
first six years of my life.
I lived a solitary life through the early years until
I left home at eighteen.
After that, I moved almost every Spring and Fall.
Like a migratory animal.
I followed some calling that led me
from one place to the other.
No certain direction or reason.
No job, no girl I left behind.
I lived like that for most of my adult life.
At least until my late thirties.
All the dead ends, all the sleepless nights
with nowhere to go. All the longing for place.
A place to be.
A place where I belonged.
Everywhere I’ve been all my life I run into someone
who says they know someone who looks like my twin.
My looks have changed so many times that several times
even my own brothers and sisters didn’t recognize me.
Is this phantom me, my Doppelganger?
Is more than one reality overlapping another?
A web of life that weaves in and out of consciousness.
Is life a waking dream?
Or is reality something far beyond our comprehension?
Always looking for home.
I always wanted to meet God.
Always wanted to be in a place of Peace.
Feeling completely alive.
I found and married the woman I was meant to live my life with
twenty eight years ago. We are still together.
I am home when she is here.
I am nowhere when she is not.
She is half of me.
And I am half of her.
I knew a month before we met that
I would be married before Christmas.
And that I would never spend Christmas alone again.
Our first date was October 6th 1984.
We were married December 6th 1984.
I still feel like a stranger in a strange land.
Misunderstood and not a part of anything.
I am not a farmer, truck driver, deer hunter,
beer drinker, sports fan. I have nothing in common
with the people I live among.
Communication either visually or verbally
is the most important thing to me.
Without that I have nothing to live for.
Maybe some day I will meet my Doppelganger in person
And find out if we have anything at all in common.
I probably wouldn’t like him.
I have had several people who claim
that they knew me when I was in college and we
went out together and had good times together.
They knew a lot about me. I had no clue who they were
or when if ever I had any contact with them before.
Unless I lived a double life and wasn’t aware of it.
It seems we weave a tangled web even unintentionally.
Maybe the answer is floating on the wind.
Or staring me in the face without me recognizing it.
Home would be a good place to be.
One day maybe we both will find that place.
© Mar. 18, 2012 Philip G. DeLoach
A poem about defining what and where Home is and how it differs from person to person. Some people are at home wherever they are. Others are tied to a specific locality for life. There are other who, like me for many years, are like Gypsies who wander from place to place looking for a home that doesn’t exist any more.