Mama always said, “Home is where the heart is.”

As a child, I thought that meant the house where we lived. The place where we ate supper, celebrated birthdays and occasionally got sent to our rooms to think about what we had done.

But Mama knew something I wouldn’t understand until much later. Home isn’t necessarily a place. It’s a feeling.

It’s where you can kick off your shoes, let down your guard and be yourself. Where somebody knows how you take your coffee and listens to the same stories you’ve told a hundred times.

Home is the smell of something cooking in the kitchen, laughter coming from another room and a familiar voice calling your name — sometimes lovingly and sometimes because you’ve left your shoes in the middle of the floor again.

As we grow older, the meaning of home changes. The house we grew up in may belong to someone else. Mama’s kitchen may be unrecognizable. The people who once filled every room may no longer be there.

We discover we can miss a home that no longer exists, even when the building is still standing.

And the things we remember most rarely have anything to do with the furniture or decorations.

We remember who sat around the table. The conversations, celebrations and even the disagreements. We remember being welcomed and knowing we belonged.

Some of the happiest homes I’ve known weren’t the biggest or fanciest. They were the ones where there was always room for one more at the table, where visitors were offered something to drink and nobody worried whether the house was company-ready.

Those homes had heart.

The older I get, the more I treasure those ordinary moments we never realized were special. Another supper around Mama’s table. Another familiar voice from the next room. Another afternoon when everyone we loved was right where we expected them to be.

Maybe that’s why Mama didn’t say home is where the furniture is or where the mortgage is paid.

She said home is where the heart is.

Because houses can be bought and sold, addresses can change and rooms can be emptied. But the love we experienced there travels with us.

Mama was right. Home isn’t simply where we live. It’s where we love, where we belong and where a piece of our heart will always remain.

What Mama said: Life lessons you didn’t know you needed—until Mama said them.

Enjoyed this article. Read more What Mama Said… by Susan Espiritu.

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