Home is Where the Heart is

We have been looking for a different house, for a couple years now.   My husband  doesn't understand when I tell him, that I'm going to have a hard time leaving this house.  I think women get attached to houses more than men.  Maybe it's because we spend more time in the house than they do.  Especially, if you are a stay at home mom, as I have been two different seasons of time. I'm not good with big changes in my life either! We've went through a lot of emotional trials in this house...and our house has been a safe haven through the years.

 

I started thinking about the other houses that I've lived in. Most of my memories are from the two story house on the farm, east of town.  I shared a room with my two younger sisters for a while.  We had bunk beds.  It had built in shelves on one wall and a huge closet.  When you hid in that closet, you could see into the living room, by looking through the bookcase. Pretty cool! It had two great big windows, that were hard to open...but, they let in a ton of light and cool breeze.  I hated going to bed in that room, cause it always seemed too light outside, to go to bed, and then sometimes it was too dark.  I can still see the stove in the living room, staring back at me.  The orange flame morphed into strange creatures during the night.  I stared at that stove many nights. I had a feather pillow, that had my smell.  You know... the way, only a feather pillow can smell.  Once, I threw up on it....it never smelled the same again! 
Sorry, I got off on a rabbit trail..............

 

Later we moved upstairs.  It was built in the attic space, so it  had slanted ceilings meeting the side walls... I hit my head more than once, but it was the perfect spot for a bed.  One of my sisters and I shared that room.  I remember pink matching bedspreads on our beds that were pushed end to end. We had headboards that had some sort of nautical theme carved into them, and they were painted. Mine was green.  There was a weird patterned vinyl on the floor. Later, we got the ugly greenish carpet from the living room.  We had a stove up there and it was always very toasty in the winter.  It was very toasty in the summer,  as well!.  I remember trying to sleep....in front of a fan, with wet washcloths on my skin.  Ugh!  You could smell the heat when you climbed those stairs.  You know what I'm talking about!!!  I did love that room though.  In later years, I had posters of teen heart throbs, all over the wall..........John Stamos, John Schneider, Erik Estrada... to name a few! 

 

We only had one bathroom... and four girls (counting my mom)!  When we first moved in, it only had a shower.  I remember taking baths in a little pink tub.  When we got a real bathtub, I remember my Grandpa Wilson trying to push it into place.  He braced himself against the wall and pushed with his feet....  It didn't go anywhere, but my grandpa went through the wall!  I think my dad was mad, but he tried not to act like it.  It also had a little floor heater.  We used to sit on it, when it wasn't in use.  I think one of my sisters burnt her tushy a little, one time.... forgetting it was on.  

 

You could run a circle through the kitchen, dining room and living room....(but, we weren't allowed to run in the house). If you went too fast, you would slide and fall on the dining rooms wood floor.  I know that from experience!  We had a two kittens once, who loved to chase each other around..... they had the sliding problem, as well! Very entertaining!

 

When I picture that house, I see it as it changed over the years.  The years we made it ours... A specific place for each Christmas decoration. Baby trees that grew into big billowing greens. New barns, sidewalks, and outbuildings. Different siding, paint, carpet and furniture. Gardens, plants and flowers. Cows, horses, pigs, chickens, sheep, cats, dogs, ducks, and rabbits.  Friends, neighbors, play dates, birthdays, holidays, pets, dates.... etc. Memories etched into my heart and brain. The places and events that are close to our hearts,  become tied to the place we call home.  The place we feel safe.  The place that protects and shelters us.  How can you avoid becoming emotionally attached?  I was heartbroken, the year a tornado ended our time there.  I had visions of my children running up those same stairs and sleeping in my old room.  I wasn't ready to let go.  I still have a hard time driving by that house. 

 

There are good memories. That house served us well.  But, I wouldn't have loved the house, if love didn't live there as well. 

Home is where the heart is.