08 March 2012

There's no place like home

We have been in our new house for over a month now. I unpacked my last box two weeks ago. Sometimes I miss my old home. I long for the large jetted tub; there is no comparing the cool brown of my new bedroom walls to the bright turquoise I painted in my old bedroom. Contemplating the spring and the desire to grow, my heart aches at the lack of sunny yard that I have to work with. Then again, my laundry room here makes me giddy; I adore having a bedroom door that I can close (as well as an attached masterbath). I am getting quite used to climbing into a vehicle that has stayed in a toasty garage all night long. Furthermore, being within walking distance to campus has proven a major blessing for my little family.
I struggled with this move more than any we have done before. Perhaps because I poured so much of myself into our little country home. I expected we would be there until Jacob graduated. I painted most of the rooms; I put up flower boxes; we cultivated the garden; we planted a strawberry patch. It was my haven to return to at the end of a long work day. I had to move for Jacob...and I don't regret that. However, the difficulty of the move made me stop and consider, what makes a place feel like home anyway? As we have settled in to our townhome (a complete opposite of our little country house) I realized that this is home to me:

*Everything has a place and everything in its place.
*Books, books, books.
*The bathrooms smelling like clorox and peppermint toilet bowl cleaner.
*Good music playing.
*Walls covered by original art...I only have 1 print! (Most of it is done by my amazing sister in law)
*Camo seemingly appearing in all corners.
*Displayed photographs of us by my beloved little sis Stephanie Wadsworth.
*Birds happily (or noisely) chirping as we walk in and out of the house.
*Oreos in the pantry.
*A guest room all set up (towels and everything) ready for the next Wadsworth to come stay.
*At least one bright colorful wall :)

Also, it's still our haven. As Jacob says, somewhere where he can take off his shoes and unload his pockets...and in so doing, unload some of the outside world and just be comfortable.

For me I keep thinking of the lyrics of "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros:
"Oh Home. Yes I am home! Home is wherever I am with you."
In the end, this is how I feel. There is no place like home...and there is no place like being with my Jacob.
Post a Comment