My Home

Home is not where you live but where they understand you.  ~Christian Morgenstern

 Where thou art - that - is Home.  ~Emily Dickinson

Houses always have held a fascination for me.  I used to think that it was because of my interest in architecture--when I was in high school, I wanted to be another Frank Lloyd Wright, but that wouldn't have worked since architecture requires a lot of math.  I am strictly right brained which allows me to appreciate the beauty in a building, but would leave me at loss at how to build one.  I love looking at houses.


Most newly married couples plan to buy a house as soon as possible, but not so for James and I.  He was always content to be a renter; some people just are--nothing wrong with that.  I, on the other hand, have always had a yearning for my own home.  While I didn't always think about it, I found myself collecting houses--figurines,  art,  fabric, or dinnerware or glassware.  I even had a collection of tea pots or tea sets in the shape of houses or cottages.  And I loved to draw houses.


We never bought our own home until nine years ago.  James was still set in his renter's mode, even though we had settled down and stopped moving around.  I couldn't interest him in even looking at houses for sale, but I became determined when I decided that receiving an inheritance a was perfect time to buy a home. I started looking on the internet and I compiled a list of houses I was interested in.  Before I could call any realtors my daughter, Brenda, called to tell me that she saw a house for sale that was  perfect for us.  It turned out the house was the one on the top of my list.  So I asked James to look at it with me and his sudden change of thinking about buying a home left me breathless.  He immediately decided this was the perfect house for us, and we made an offer, closing on the house in record time.  It was the only house we ever looked at.  I was ecstatic; we were homeowners. 

The house has very good bones but needed a lot of cosmetic help (the kitchen cabinets were painted black!)  and we have worked very hard improving it.  And it was the perfect house for us, allowing James to have his own space and a measure of independence as his condition worsened, and allowed me to have a studio. 


I have appreciated my house and because I have decided to sell it doesn't mean I don't love the gift of it in my life.  But I have also learned to let go of things, and the property is more than I want to take care of alone.  It is on 2 and 1/2 lots--almost a half acre on a slope, and only a small part is landscaped--the rest is bush, and I have to rely heavily on family and friends to maintain it.  I want a smaller home-- all on one floor-- on a smaller (level) lot  that I can take care of myself.  


I don't know if what I want is realistic, or if this is what God wants for me but I can only find out if I step out in faith.  First thing is to get my mind around the prospect of moving and to start doing my homework; to start cleaning, clearing out and planning.   I have started the process of making lists and discussing this with family and friends some of whom have offered to help.  This is a new leg of the journey--exciting and overwhelming, but I am grateful for the possibilities and for those who cheer me on.  We will see...