I’ve kept up on a blog of a family going through building their new home. It’s move in week for them. So exciting! For months you plan, work, and suddenly it all comes together—just like that.
A few months ago, Natalie had a sleepover with the girls in her class as celebration of an ending of junior high and beginning of high school. The sleepover took place at the house we lived in for 10 years and sold before building just four years ago. The house that all of my babies were brought home to (besides Nat). It was the home that they were raised in their younger years. And dropping Natalie off that day after a quick tour of the house left me driving down that 1/2 mile long driveway in tears. Perhaps even the “ugly cry”.
I was certainly overcome with a surprising emotion I had no idea was there—because if I had, I never would have put myself in the situation.
It wasn’t the house—although I loved it. Although we had remodeled and made it our own throughout the years–as Steve grew up himself in that very house. I was not missing the house. There were so many things we struggled with in the house itself.
It was the memories. I was mourning those memories so heavily and so deeply. My little girls playing with kitties. Pushing their strollers, teaching chickens how to fly. The memory of Kourtney and Landon forever covering themselves in mud. The afternoon Landon escaped to the field behind us where a farmer stopped his tractor to bring him back home. (HELP ME—where was I?). The four-wheeler rides, the birthday parties, the swimming parties, the nights around our table with our littles who had nothing to do but be home together, the huge garden, and the long walks down the driveway. I miss all of that living life out there on the farm. No, it wasn’t the house that made the tears flow. It was what made that house our home.
Look around your home you live in now. What is it that makes your house a home? What sweet memories do you see in that corner of your house? Or in the other corner of your house? What memories do you want to forget? Ha!
I know that the people in it are what matters. That no matter where we live, we are “home” where we are together.