Sunday, October 18, 2015

Home is Where...

I am a sentimental fool. Nostalgia gets me every time. I don't cry at sad movies, but real-life sentimental moments get me every time. It is safe to say I inherited this trait from my dad. I don't say that with any intent of saying that is a bad thing. My dad often gets caught up in the sentimentality of the moment, and I've often heard him talk about stories from college and the days gone by. My mom, though, isn't like that. She possibly holds all those moments and memories inside, but what I hear from her is more chit chat about the here and now.

This summer brought out a little more of the nostalgia in me, and more so it got me thinking about the idea of HOME. When you hear that word, what is your first thought? Does your mind wander to the house you grew up in or the one where you currently live? Some consider HOME to be a place or a feeling, while others think it is the people that can make a place feel like HOME. All those thoughts have been summed up in the following popular phrases:

Home is where the heart is...
Home is not a place, it is a feeling...
Home is where you hang your heart...

I've been thinking about this a lot lately because my parents have been in the same house for the last 35 years, and it is looking like by next summer they could be relocating. Yes, that means they have lived there since I was 4, so there are a LOT of memories connected with that house. As I think about them residing somewhere else I have wondered whether it will still feel like HOME. So, is HOME about the place, or the people? Let's analyze...

THE PLACE
Here it is, my parents' home where they raised 5 children for the majority of our lives. It is by far nothing grand or glorious, but a blessing all the same. Its claim to fame is the fact that we had a green driveway until about a month ago. Yes, you read that right, a green driveway. I can vividly remember driving up to the house for the first time as a 4 year old and seeing that green driveway. About a month ago my dad repaved it, but you can see faded remnants of the green by the back door step.

There are many more memorable moments connected to the place, and I'm sure all homes have them. The living room window where we would ride our bikes up to it in the summer and play McDonald's drive-through....the tree in the back yard we would climb....the small hill in the back we would sled down...the sidewalk behind our house that took us on hundreds (thousands?) of bike rides to the park and walks to school....the La-Z-Boy recliner where I took many awesome naps and where I planted myself one Thanksgiving break to read Gone With the Wind straight through...both the kitchen and dining room tables where many long post-dinner chats and laughs were shared and treasured....the lilac bush outside my bedroom where we actually formed and held meetings for the 5M Club...the back step where we ate our ice cream cones after supper...and the list could go on and on.

Then there are the smells, whether good or bad. I can smell the house at Christmas time, with the fresh evergreen tree....baking....cooking....the smell in the summer of my parents grilling wafting through the windows...the musty smell of the basement....coffee always brewing in the morning...

You can't forget the sounds....Packer football games on Sunday afternoons...my mom's wonderful laugh...siblings practicing piano....Christmas records playing...my brother playing nerf basketball games in his room...the sounds of the wooden steps to the basement...

THE PEOPLE
As I sit and reflect about what I just said about the PLACE that I call home, I realize that PEOPLE are connected with almost every single one of those memories. In a few months I'll probably celebrate my last Christmas (my favorite memories) at my parents' house. When they move will it still be the same? Will the ornaments and decorations look the same in a new place? Will the music sound the same? Will the food taste the same? Yes, it will probably look and feel different. I admit it will take me a second to adjust, but in the end I know I'm blessed because the PEOPLE that I have been blessed to make these memories with will still be there. I can still talk and laugh around a dinner table, even if it isn't the same one. I can still smell my mom's phenomenal cooking. I can still hug my parents and thank them for all the have been and are to me....they are my HOME.

My husband Jesse and I have lived in our current home since May of 2008. We have raised two vivacious girls, and we have lots of memories made here. I consider this my home, but in all reality I still feel more tied to my Milwaukee home. Not sure if that is because I spent a majority of my life there, or because the people that had such an influence on me growing up and where I am today still reside there. Don't get me wrong, I'm blessed beyond measure and love our little corner lot here in New Ulm. I'm sure when our girls grow up they'll look back at this house like I do my parents' home.












ETERNAL HOME
In the end, it really doesn't mean much. Is it the place or the people? It really doesn't matter. All the nostalgia and sentimental good feelings are connected to our temporary earthly homes. I get sad thinking about my parents moving. I don't think there is anything wrong with having a tinge of nostalgia when they move thinking about all the wonderful blessings and memories we experienced in that home. With that being sad, far more important than them making our house feel like a HOME, they taught us to look forward to our heavenly home. If I'm sentimental thinking about all the great places and people I call home, it is just a tiny, minute glimpse of the glory we shall see someday in heaven.

Simply put...I'm always home.





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