Stories · Uncategorized

The places I’ve called home

So it looks like I’ll be moving at the end of next month.

My brother and I completely lucked out on a three-bedroom suite near Central Park (that’s Vancouver, not New York). Although I’m sad to leave my lovely roomie, I’m looking forward to living with family again. I’m also looking forward to the shorter commute to work, and eventually, school. And my brother is definitely looking forward to eating home-cooked meals again.

Moving for me is always a curious mix of emotions: a reluctance to leave blended with an eagerness to move on. And just now, as I start getting ready for the wrench of pulling up roots once again, I can’t help but think of all the other places where I’ve lived over the years.

A while ago, a very thoughtful friend of mine drove out to my last home in the Philippines and took a few photos to show me how it looks now. Here are the photos to start off this little series on the places I’ve called home.

The gate used to be brown, and there’s a big bush covering the garden wall now. But thankfully the house itself is still white stucco with a red roof.

A lovely new addition is the tile set into the garden wall, painted with an image of the Holy Family. My family was very happy here so it’s comforting to think the house is still blessed and protected. And another nice touch…in this shot there’s a rainbow across the garden gate.


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