Hireath (noun) Origin: Welsh | HEER-eyeth A homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was.
Home is wherever I hang my hat. ~~Miriam Margolyes
It’s so funny to me. I only lived there for three years out of the fifty-five I have under my belt. It was my home for such a very short time. It’s not that I cannot return to it, it is not that it never was my home. It was. I knew it was not really my forever home. It did feel sometimes that I had been there forever.
Those days and times, they were so vivid. I sometimes dream of going back there and living forever. I sometimes have dreams I am, in fact, there. I wake up and feel a homesickness like that of when I am missing my native home. The people. The food. The friends. The hikes. The smells, tastes, and sounds.
I have lived in many other places and have loved most of them. However, this is the place I feel most tied to and one day … I am sure I will go back.
“Rhys absorbed that with chagrin. “No one has ever accused me of being a romantic,” he said ruefully.
“If you were, how would you propose?”
He thought for a moment. “I would begin by teaching you a Welsh word. Hiraeth There’s no equivalent in English.”
“Hiraeth,” she repeated, trying to pronounce it with a tapped R, as he had.
“Aye. It’s a longing for something that was lost, or never existed. You feel it for a person or a place, or a time in your life…it’s a sadness of the soul. Hiraeth calls to a Welshman even when he’s closest to happiness, reminding him that he’s incomplete.”
Her brow knit with concern. “Do you feel that way?”
“Since the day I was born.” He looked down into her small, lovely face. “But not when I’m with you. That’s why I want to marry you.”
― Marrying WinterborneThe ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. ~~ Maya Angelou
“Do you know that high fever which invades us in our cold suffering, that aching for a land we do not know, that anguish of curiosity? There is a country which resembles you, where everything is beautiful, sumptuous, authentic, still, where fantasy has built and adorned a western China, where life is sweet to breathe, where happiness is wed to silence. That is where to live, that is where to die!”
– Invitation to a Voyage”
― Paris Spleen and Wine and Hashish
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