What home means to me
eighteen years I took home for granted. A weatherboard at the end of a
cul-de-sac, an un-kept lawn and a row of carnations grown around the edge of
the hills hoist: it was embarrassment I often felt about this home. Then after
30 years of marriage, mum decided to leave and we packed up and went flatting.
lived in her home a few months and then boarded a train to North Queensland to
start my studies and make my life. Newcastle was a home made for me by others, bless
them, but it would never be a place I made home.
a young adult, I found myself breathing sharp gasps of humidity in the tropics
and trying to find my place. Over-heated and dressed in black, I was conspicuous
amongst the batik and thongs.
is known for the Uni, an army barracks and a sprawling urban footprint. People
are always coming and going in Townsville. It’s a place that embraces a
stranger. I learnt how to breathe in that hot wet air, exchanged skivvies for
singlet tops and discovered the freedom that comes with living your life outdoors.
Townsville, the ocean water feels like a tepid bath, but when you crawl out
from under the closest shade and immerse yourself, it revitalises you. With the
northern rivers on the Bruce Highway, the Cleveland Bay coast, a National Park
and the foothills of Mt Stuart a compass, I discovered myself and I realised I
loved the beauty of that place.
became the first home I made.
later, I found myself at the other end of the east coast, in a beanie and scarf
in a Hobart January. Over time, I collected warm coats, learnt to make fires
and discovered the Tasmanian environment.
clear blue spring day returning from months overseas, the pilot asked
permission to fly into Hobart via the Derwent, the beautiful river, the awesome
mountain, the gigantic sky. I realised I was head over heels with this place
and I cried returning to the wonderful city that I have made my home for almost
I’ve lived in Hobart longer than I lived in my birthplace. I’ve made my own
home here. I thought about leaving for a while, but I’ve never been able to
tear myself away. Now I sit at the foot of Mount Wellington that anchors me
here, and pay homage to it daily. And in return for my adoration, Hobart has
offered me a wealth of love and opportunity. Unlike the transience of a home
made in Townsville, the home I’ve made in Hobart is permanent.
I’m thinking about what home means to me and I think about the lovely houses
I’ve enjoyed living in, the fantastic people I’ve been able to love, and the
beautiful environment that is my constant admiration.
it is not one house or one person or only the environment that makes somewhere home for
is me in this place and how I feel about being here. It's where I decide to love that's home. And that's Hobart.
What does home mean to you?
Labels: What home means to me