Home

“Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.” 

~ Sarah Dessen

Seventeen years ago today, we moved into our home.  

Our shelter.

Our sacred place.

Our haven.

This home has been such a part of our lives, and I can't ever imagine raising our kids anywhere else.  Would we like more space?  Sure, but I'm not willing (or able) to move just yet.  I remember vividly the first time I walked into our home, and I just knew.  

I knew it was going to be our home the second  I walked into the kitchen and saw the bar and the door to the back yard.   My mom had driven me by the house and I called the agent to see if we could walk through before the open house.  She met us there and I walked in and knew.  My mom did too.  It was one of those moments you didn't question... you just made the offer of what they were asking so no one else could outbid you.  

I remember moving in and my sister putting all the kitchen stuff away...

I remember my mom making several trips from our condo with all the stuff that she didn't want the movers to take...

I remember all the flowering crab apple trees were in bloom on the day we moved in....

I remember ordering pizza on the first night, and sleeping in our room for the first time.

This home has seen us through the most amazing times:  Pregnancies, new jobs, pre-school, and pets.  It has also seen us through the worst of times:  miscarriages, death, tantrums, and family business.

This much I know is true:  our house is our home, and at the end of the day, it is the one place that will bring us comfort.  I can still be calmed down by bringing my laptop to the big chair in the dining room and writing, usually with something baking in the oven.

Every.  Single.  Time.  

I don't know if we'll be here forever (we might win the lotto someday!), but I do know that I will be eternally grateful for the time we've had in our home.  My kids and their messy rooms will remember the family dinners, the pets, bedrooms painted in hockey colors, and the xBox in the basement.  

They'll remember the cookies.

They'll remember the feeling that being home meant everything would be okay, no matter what.

At least I hope they do.  

Happy May Day!