Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The Heart of the Home

I am typing this from my parents' house. The kids and I come here every Wednesday as a place to hang out while my son attends his weekly confirmation classes. Since this is not the house I grew up in it has more of a hotel feel to me. It is so clean and neat that, while I enjoy it, I also loathe it for the inadequacy it heaps upon me!! I know, I know...there is a chance my house will look and feel like this too...when my kids are grown and I'm 60 years old (notice I said there's a chance... I know myself too well to think that will really happen!).

When I am here the atmosphere is a relaxed one. When I am here the food is better. When I am here the pressure is off. When I am here I am me and I am loved. When I am here I am reminded of the saying "Home is where the heart is."

My childhood home was filled with laughter and love. Everyone in my family simply got along. I realize now how fortunate I am to have that kind of background, that memory, to carry with me into my own home.

Home is so important to me. There is nowhere else I would rather be than in my house. While I miss all that went on in the home of my youth I can't say that I miss the house itself all that much. It was not very hospitable. Even though it did not have central air or heat; nor did it have any insulation...it surrounded me with unconditional love. I was protected from all of life's elements while living there. I learned many great lessons living in that house...lessons that resurface daily. I am so thankful for what I have now and for what my parents have as well. Our respective homes are dreams come true. We have real closets and a thermostat. But it is not those things which make a house a home. It is the people who inhabit it. It is the camaraderie among family members. It is the moments spent growing up under the same roof. While there is certainly no place like home...home is definitely where the heart is.

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