As a nation of wanderers, to some degree, we move from state to state, city to city, and house to house. In the moves, we often leave things behind that have little sentimental value or just won’t fit. When we get into the new place, in opening boxes, most of have a moment of wondering, “Why did I bring this again?”
Right after a move there are boxes all about, furniture in the room we hope it needs to be in, and a blank slate of walls and cabinets. Now the final stage of moving stress begins, where to put everything?
This evening as we were helping the Papas hang paintings, I was pondering, at what point does a house become a home? As each of the paintings went up, the energy shifted little-by-little in the feeling of homeyness. The feeling had already started as they unpacked the kitchen, the closet, and other living areas. Hanging the paintings just increased it.
For me, I think it definitely begins as the kitchen comes together. It always takes a few iterations to get it right, and as right as it can be for a while. The first cooked meal, and the wafting of aromas through the house definitely add to the homeyness.
Although the kitchen and smells are a start, or the artwork that starts to go up on the walls, even if it’s the artwork I love to see. What makes the house begin to be a home are pictures of my family. The pictures of our kids when they first came into our lives hanging right beside their latest school photo, which has finally become all of their Senior pictures to be specific. This pictures reminds me of the commitment my husband and I made to one another. The commitment we made to have a family. The instant love I felt for them when we first met them. The peaks and valleys of our lives together. And the love that remains, sometimes in spite of the ups and downs of our lives, and because of the memories we have created as a family.
Once that picture is on the wall, it’s home!
What makes a house a home for you?
Personal Reflections of a Middle-Aged Man 