A House is "Just" a Home

Along with the wide range of emotions, "triggers", memories, and new plans, this holiday week, Thanksgiving Eve, marks the day we moved into a newly built house. Just three short years, yet what seems a lifetime ago, here we came, over the river, to sleep in the "new house", the house we built after finally being bought out by the airport for future plans. Those runway and other plans do not look like they will come to fruition, much to my chagrin, because I didn't want to leave that neighborhood, that house, that life, my home. I didn't exactly go kicking and screaming for I had no choice, much like many other events in my life, so we made the best of it, and found our way through selecting floor plans, light fixtures, doorknobs, colors, carpet, furniture, all new and foreign to me. You see, in our bedroom we still had my parents bedframe and Joe's junior high desk and dresser, yes, even after 27 years of marriage. And yes, we still had my parents floral couch, used chairs, a dinette set for a dining room, and other assorted hand-me-downs. Then there was the orange carpet, yes, orange, and we never replaced it, rather we lived with it. Prior to the big move, I couldn't take it anymore and we removed it, only to discover a fairly decent floor, and viola, we had hardwood floors for the last year or two. So, naturally, selecting "new" and improved items for the house was rather nice, yet, stressful at times, for I just wanted to stay put and improve the old. But more than leaving the house, it marked a new era, a time when the girls really went separate ways, leaving Joe and I to take on a new home with an empty feeling, yes, the first sought after, then dreaded, empty nest syndrome. A whole book can be written on that topic, and many have, so it clearly must have its place in milestones of life!

I didn't understand what went into a "new" house, how beautifully empty it could be, how it echoed, how people could see in, how much you needed to fill it up! So the task started slowly to make this house a home. The first Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas helped, especially as Joe and Jen and Allison each gave their own sentimental gifts to me...as for me, I stuck to what I thought was the plan, practical gifts for the girls, along with some assorted "diva" type items, and no presents for Joe, the house was our present to ourselves. Well, imagine my surprise when a wrapped package sat alone in the rubble of unwrapped gifts, a photograph of my former home, taken at twilight, and matted in none other than the orange carpet. Tears flowed as memories of days long gone took over, and I held it to my heart. On the heels of that precious gift, the girls presented Joe and I with an amazing surprise photograph taken over that Thanksgiving holiday, and the sparkle in their eyes said so much. And then Allison's words, "we wanted you to always remember what we looked like when we moved in here, and we will make this house a home"...the sage wisdom of a young 20 year old college student. Jennifer had arranged, and no doubt, paid for this amazing gift that now, too, stands as a treasured memory.

I have come to realize in the short three years where life has taken such drastic turns, that so much of our happiness and joy does come from the memories made in days gone by, that we often forget to savor the little things that all too soon become the big things, that simple words and gestures can last a lifetime. I have also come to realize that God had a way of helping us expediate the process of making this house a home, we had time to spend, games to play, laughter can still be heard, and a presence is so life like that it will never fade. We have managed to bring what we had in Bridgeton to this St. Charles home, and while all of our plans for it have changed, like everything else in our lives, all we needed was the love.

So this day, I am grateful for the love, and the memories.