Going home – but where is home? It used to be where my guitar was, then became where my wife and family are. Now the boys have left home, so it’s where my wife is. But both of us long to go back “home” from time to time. Back to where our earliest memories lie, back to Wales.
I was born in Cardiff and left there only to go deeper into Wales to university in Swansea. After that I have never lived in Wales, only in England, with a few happy years in Seychelles.
What does “home” mean? Wales is where our parents came from; 75% of them, anyway. Where our grandparents came from; 66% this time. For some reason we choose Wales as home because our own early days were spent there. The accents are familiar. We can pronounce most of the place names. Wales is where we feel refreshed, re-rooted in our lives, strengthened in the faith we were taught there.
They used to say that teachers and water were Wales’ biggest exports. The three days we just spent in mid-Wales were rain free, unusually. Although trees were still winter bare, sheep were lambing, gorse bushes thrust out new yellow blossoms, daffodils celebrated spring and the sunshine was delicious.
20 March, 2011