Listening to the radio today on the way home got me thinking.....
The DJs seem to think that there is one place we all consider our real home. It's the place we go to be comforted and feel safe. Our safe haven.
But what is it that MAKES it home? And why do we feel that way about one particular place?
I admit that for the longest time after being on my own, "home" was my parents house. It was the place I went when I was hungry-(usually for a particular food my mom baked which shall remain nameless)-, too cold, too hot and needed air conditioning, or needed a safe place to stay when things got rough in a relationship.
I had my moms shoulder to cry on and my dads advice to soften the blows life had to dish out for me.
But sometime in the years that followed, things changed somehow.
I no longer feel quite as needy as I did when I was younger and when I go to Mom and Dads house, it's just that- their house and their home. It's not my "home" anymore, altho if a major catastrophy hit me- it would still be the safe haven it has always been. Technecally I still live at home- We, (my husband and I), are living in my parents guest-house on the back side of their property while we save a bit for a down-payment on a new home- but it's not really what I consider "MY home" either.
I honestly don't think I have ever had a place of my own that I have ever considered my true home. I think the closest I have ever come to a place like what most people consider "home" was a little place I rented about 4 years ago. It was a very small, one bedromm apartment out in the country. It was a converted basement of an A-frame house and had just been remodeled. It was barely 400 sq. feet of living space. It had salmon pink carpet in the living room and bedroom and my furniture was mostly black so I felt like I was living in a Victorias Secret ad most of the time.
I was working night shift at the Police Department and it was three weeks before I got everything unpacked and actually got to sleep in my bed in the bedroom at night like a "normal" person. I was in bed and about 3AM I woke up and lay staring at the stars...........wait a minute- STARS????
Yep -The previous owner had despised the low ceiling in the bedroom and had gotten some of the glow in the dark stars-(the tiny ones)- and put about a thousand all over the ceiling. He must have put some time into putting those stars up because he had some of the constalations up there. You couldn't even see them in the light, but at night in the dark, they were beautiful.
After that, my "home" was there. The place I went to get away from it all and relax. I truly understood the meaning of "My own home" after that.
But then I moved where I am now to be near my parents and altho I love the place we are now- it hasn't quite acheived the spot in my heart that the apartment did.
My husband and I will be buying our first home together in a few months and knowing us, it will become the "home" I yearn for. We are gathering things that we love to put in our new home and with all the love and care we give each other- it will surely transfer to our house and transform it into our "home".
BTW- Thank you, Paul, for the most amazing first year of marriage!
Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart!!