Other Words for Home

by Jasmine Warga

And I wonder if that is because there is no one left who needs to breathe.

My feet sink into the sand and I realize I do not want things to change. I want things to go back to the way they were, which I guess is another sort of changing,

Life is not good for everyone. You only think it is good because that is what you have been told. You need to open your eyes,

My brother wants to see things change, and I just want to hear him laugh again.

I am learning how to be sad and happy at the same time.

Then he brings his face close to mine and whispers in my ear, Be brave. My knees lock and I am about to tell him I don’t know how to do that. But then I see Baba embracing Mama. He is gently patting her stomach and I have never seen Baba look so proud and so worried all at the same time. And that’s when I realize I don’t have a choice.

It is so strange to feel lucky for something that is making my heart feel so sad.

Everyone back home wants a new house not an old one. When I ask Mama about it, she says, Americans don’t have much history so they like things they think are old.

Americans love labels. They help them know what to expect. Sometimes, though, I think labels stop them from thinking.

There is an Arabic proverb that says: Her luck splits open rocks. I am still waiting to feel like the force and less like the rocks.

Layla, I say, and I hardly ever say her name so that catches her attention. I left home, I flew across an ocean. My brother is missing, in the middle of a war zone. What is there left to be afraid of?

And when she held me, I could feel that there was still space in her arms for me.

Sometimes I feel like you have to say things out loud just to remind the universe that you’re still thinking about them.

but because her name already sounds like the name of a famous actress whereas I have a name that people struggle to pronounce.

It makes me think of Issa and Baba and how hard it can be when what you want runs against a different current from your father.

Yeah, me too are now my three favorite words in English.

is a funny thing, how a day can be so bright, but so cold.

and it’s not that I’m saying I understand because I know I don’t, but I do understand what it’s like to not fit in. To have people look at you like you’re different and weird and like that’s somehow a bad thing.

She doesn’t give you anything new, but she helps you better see what is already there.

have learned that sometimes the simplest things are the hardest things to say. That sometimes there is no word for what you feel, no word in any language.

You will belong here. You will belong wherever you want.

It is lovely to be a part of something that feels bigger than you.