My Place I Call Home

My Place I Call Home

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

4/26/23

For most of my life, I have danced on the edge inside just trying to survive. I have always felt like I am on the outside looking in and never managed to fit in anywhere. I have never felt at home anywhere.

In March, I came to New Jersey to help my daughter after major surgery. I had only planned to be here for 2 weeks. Her insurance and hospitals decided to play games and unapproved and reapproved her surgery. They fought back and forth. She finally had her surgery a week ago. So, I have spent over a month here. I am not upset about it. I have missed her desperately and am grateful for the time we have spent together. However, I realized that I finally do feel like I have a place that is home to me in my heart.

God blessed me with my own home over a year ago. In that time I have seen my father and step dad die and helped my mother gain back her independence after a near fatal surgery. It has all been so difficult. Yet, I realize now that through it all, my home truly has been my place of safety and comfort.

Life tends to be a twisty, windy, jacked up mess for me most days. Being the oldest, I tend to be the one everyone expects to fix things. I have learned that it is not my job anymore. I just have to give it to God and trust Him. That is easier said than done. But eventually, I do let go.

I was sitting on my porch a few months ago, rocking in the swing my Daddy insisted that I have years before he died. I was looking out at the school across the street that I went to when I was a kid. It dawned on me that I was the happiest in my childhood at that time. It was before all the bad stuff started.

I never in a million years would have thought I would live where I do. Yet, God knew better than me. Every time someone walks in my home for the first time, they say how peaceful it is. That peaceful feeling is what led me to buy it.

There is more…I never planned to be able to have a room dedicated to my art, sewing, and other creative endeavors. I have one now. It is weird in a way. When I go into my artroom and create, it feels like God has wrapped me in a warm blanket. It is my private, sacred, safe place.

Barring any major problems, I will be heading back to Oklahoma this Saturday with a whole new gratitude for my place I call home in this crazy world.