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What Gatsby has Taught Me about Home

Gatsby LessonsAshtenComment

As much as it pains me to say this I must: Gatsby loves Kyle more than me. I swear that big white snow beast follows that ginger around like a shadow: they’re like a damn dog food commercial…a man and his dog, just as happy as can be. It used to frustrate me to no end….okay it still does, so much so that I’ve even resorted to sneaking him extra treats to win his affections but then Kyle let me in on a little Gatsby Intel:

Every day around 5 o’clock, Gatsby lies down by our front windows and waits for me to come home from work.

There have been days when I haven’t made it home until 7 or 8 o’clock but he still lays there, staring out the window, looking for my car to pull into the driveway. He’s there the moment I open the door, wagging his tail ready for his pets….and another treat.

Oh and by the way? He doesn’t do this for Kyle. He may love that ginger more than me, but there’s a small part of him that can’t wait for his mama to come home.

When we were in California for the holidays all Kyle and I could talk about was Gatsby.  Literally, we couldn't shut up about him; it was like "oh it's snowing! I can't wait for Gatsby to see the snow!"; "gosh I've missed the beach. Do you think Gatsby would like the beach?"; "your dog is so darn cute. I bet they would get along great with Gatsby!"

And in case you're wondering no our friends are not looking forward to the day we have ginger children because we will probably be even crazier.

I know what you're thinking: "so let me get this straight: you don't like Atlanta, you finally get out of there for a week and all you want to do is go back so you can hang out with your dog?"

You are correct.

Because of Gatsby I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of “home”. Of course California will always be “home base” but lately Gatsby has taught me that “home” is less of a place and more of a feeling. Coming home at the end of the day to that little face that the window makes me happier than a #2 animal style with animal style fries at In N Out, which is saying a lot because we all know how I feel about my In N Out. “Home” I’ve learned, is where ever that big, white snow beast and that ginger are and not in the state that issued my driver’s license or where I pay my rent. And that actually makes my time here more bearable; knowing that no matter how long we live here or no matter where life takes us, I will always be able to make a home because I will always have that big, white face at the window waiting for his mama to pull in to the driveway and bribe him with another biscuit. 

It's comforting, you know? To find "home" in something as stable and constant amidst life's set-backs and changes. To know that no matter what, I will always be home as long as he's there to greet me at the door. I'm grateful to him for that: for giving me back my feeling of "home" when I needed it the most and for loving me enough to wait for me every night, even if Kyle is his #1....technically.