Home is Where the Heart Is

“Home is Where the Heart is”
February 12, 2012
By: Gina Yoryet Roman


While going through a ton of junk and furniture buried under coats of dust this morning, I came across a few post cards of San Francisco, Sacramento and Folsom Lake, which were given to me by one of my sisters last Christmas. Domestic chores have never on my top list to do but I was trying to keep myself busy to avoid feeling YUCK because of the weather which is not what I signed up for being in Guadalajara.

My mind went on default mode automatically and traveled back to what I once considered “home” because many of my most important years were spent there. My childhood, adolescence and part of my early adulthood were left there.

That is the setting where I met my two greatest and best friends ever and who I still keep in touch with, the tender memories of my first love who I shared many moments with in Middle School, High School and part of college (by the way, it took me forever to get over him) and someone that will always hold a piece of my heart.

The place where I grew up blending with society and feeling as if I were another proud “American,” yet I’ve always known deep down that I am too Mexican to be American and too American to be Mexican. Those cities that helped me learn more about life and define who I really was, not taking into account whether I was “de este lado o del otro,” or “ni de aquí ni de allá,” like I’ve felt many times but considering the individual I was meant to be one day to forge my destiny.

California means a lot to me because that is where I also met my second love, the love of my life and although sometimes I say to myself, “I will spend my late years in California, “Why not settle down in San Diego?” I am doubtful because there would always be something missing…

My heart wouldn’t be there completely. They say, “Home is where the heart is.” But the issue here is that my heart is split up in two. It hasn’t been with me completely the entire time I’ve spent here nor will it ever be in California fully because it would always make me yearn for “my other home.”

Sometimes I wake up thinking, “Tengo que regresar a casa, me lo reclama el corazón.” It is such irony because I am still in search of "home." I gues what matters more is where my heart is at ease. It may not have anything to do with where I feel better but where I find my purpose.

What is of higher importance is to not get too comfortable in this world because like someone once said, “Solo estoy aquí de pasada.” Meaning that this universe is only a temporary place for us to be and we had better not get used to it because sooner or later we’ll all have to depart.

Better yet is to savour the glory of having tortillas and bread, catsup and Tabasco sauce, hamburgers, French fries, fast food, and tacos, tostadas, tamales mole and pozole, feeling fortunate of being able to speak Spanish as fluidly as English and taking advantage of living in "My two worlds."