While I stood at the kitchen counter chopping veggies for a salad, I tapped the icons on my phone to call my mom. She and I often feel lonely at dusk, so I’ve started calling her around suppertime while I prepare dinner.

Mom’s voice sounded weary. “Hi, Honey.”

I was a little concerned but began with my usual question. “How are you doing today?”

“Well, right now I’m feeling depressed. I don’t like that the radio station plays Christmas music all month long.”

“But Mom! I thought you loved the traditional carols.”

“Since Dad died, they make me feel lonely.” She sighed. “Especially the song, ‘I’ll be Home for Christmas, If Only in My Dreams.’ There’s nobody here in my apartment. I feel like I’ve gone off to boarding school just like you went to Kent Academy as a little girl.

I stopped chopping. “In that case, Mom, I know how you’re feeling. I was terribly homesick for you during the years I lived at K.A.”

“This retirement village is K.A. to me.” She cleared her throat. “Where’s my home? I’ve been in this apartment for fifteen years, and it still doesn’t feel like home. Throughout my life,  I’ve lived in so many places in both the U.S. and Nigeria.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

Joy and Sorrow During the Holidays

Then the conversation turned to my husband’s family. Last year, in May 2021, Chris’s mom passed away. In February this year, Chris’s dad died, just nine months after Christine. Following that, the family home was sold. For fifty-one years, it had been the place where so many Warren family memories were made.

This year there won’t be the large gathering of friends and family they always hosted at Hogmanay (Scottish New Year’s Eve). Losing both parents plus the homestead left such a huge hole in our hearts as the Warren clan begins to adjust to this next stage of life.

Finally, Mom mentioned her plans for this year’s Jones Christmas gathering. “I’m looking forward to hosting my children, grandkids, and great-grandkids on Boxing Day like I’ve done for the past few years in this home.”

“Until then,” Mom said, “I have a friend here in my complex who might be lonely too.” Her voice brightened. “I’ll call Glenda, and we’ll get together on Christmas Day.”

Then Mom took a deep breath. “I guess I feel like Egbe is home because it’s the place we stayed the longest in Nigeria. We lived in that beautiful rural town for thirteen years when you five kids were growing up.”

I nodded. “Egbe was my favorite home. I’m glad you kept so many artifacts, pictures, letters, and other mementos of our life in Nigeria. You have many of them displayed in your living room on tables, bookshelves, and hanging on the walls. That helps your apartment feel more like our home.”

“Yes,” Mom said. “For now, this is home.”

* * *

Far from Home

One of my author friends, Mabel Ninan, recently shared that when she immigrated from India to the U.S., she was homesick for culture, family, and familiar sights and sounds. She found comfort in her faith and in reading her Bible.

“We are sojourners on earth,” she said. “The happy times are a foreshadowing of what will come in eternity. Heaven is our true home.” You can read more about her encouraging perspective in her book “Far from Home,” available here and on her blog here.

Link it to Your Life:

Where do you feel your home is? How have you been able to make the place where you currently live feel more like home? What are some changes you might want to make?

Sometimes we find that homey feeling through connection with others such as with a phone call to a friend. Or while having coffee, tea, or taking a walk with another person.

Is there someone who seems isolated whom you can reach out to so you can ease each other’s loneliness? Perhaps there’s an opportunity to connect with a neighbor who may not feel quite at home in this culture yet.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the home you’ve prepared in heaven for all who place their trust in you. Please bring comfort to all who are lonely and grieving during this time of the year. Amen