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Just a thought i was having tonight as I was at the home a friend of mine. In my opinion, the difference between a house and a home is a family. As much as I love my roommates and I enjoy where we’re living and it is a more and more enjoyable place to live all the time… it will never be home. For the simple reason that my family is not here. I don’t think it could be home even if Taylor moved in. I think there is something about the unity, the blessings that are bestowed upon a family that make their places of residence a home rather than just a house. I’m sure this doesn’t apply to all homes. I’m sure that there are some kids who would consider the streets a better home than their houses because of domestic violence or drug abuse or whatever the problems may be. But I guess again you have to define family. A friend of mine once wrote that “a family is the people you love and want to help and learn from.”Perhaps by that definition of family my apartment could become a home (as per my definition)… however, I think there is still something a little bit more powerful about the strength of an eternal family unified together.
Anyways, being in a real live home again made me think of those things.
“home is where the heart is” isn’t entirely inaccurate, is it?
Yeah, exactly. Somehow though it had never occured to me that being where the heart is necessarily involved a family. Like I feel like for me, where my heart is is definitely with my family, but somehow I’d never really made the connection that a home requires a family. I guess I’d somehow thought that you could make anywhere a home so long as you liked it there, but I think it’s more than just liking your surroundings, it’s the other people that make it a home. Anywhere else is just a nice place to live.