Just-A-Pause : Life Happens And Then There Is A Home Coming

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All of us are born and learn to live and love life, only to die one day. Death brings with it, it's own share of memories. Memories of the time spent with the one who is no more.

Personally, I feel uncomfortable to condole with the grieving kin. At the cost of sounding cynical, funeral attendance these days are more of a social obligation. Sympathizing with the near and dear ones after the burial is a custom formed by society. It is also one-way of making your presence known that you were there with the bereaved in their time of grief. Something like a softer version of earning brownie points. Besides, one gets to meet distant relatives and friends and it's an opportunity to catch up…so to speak.

But then again, only the ones who have lost, know exactly what they have lost.

I wandered far away from God, now I'm coming home
The paths of sin too long I've trod; now I'm coming home

These are the most touching words. My uncle has recently passed away and we believe he has gone on to a better place – his heavenly home.

To each one of us, this word "home" has a different meaning. Is it the place where your family lives? The town you grew up in? The place you were born or the place where you feel most comfortable? It is said; home is where the heart is. It is also said, the place where I hang my hat…that's my home. But is it really?

Home, to me, is where you are at peace with yourself; where you feel certain calmness. I guess that peace is not of this world; as much as our real home is not in this world.

Adieu Uncle Archie. You are finally home.