Happy Tuesday, My Friend!
It’s been “a minute” since I’ve written to you! I hope you’ve had a lovely summer so far. I know it’s not over yet, but as the kids where I live headed back to school today, that seems to mark the end of summer vacation. (Even though it will feel like I’m living in a sauna for months to come.)
August is always a weird month for me. Maybe because it’s a transition month, and transitions have never been my favorite. I’ve always been a homebody, and leaving home to go to college for the first time (August of ’78) was HUGE for me. I felt like the tiniest of all the fishes in an ocean of whale sharks. Fast forward several years to when I took three kids off to their various colleges, again, in August—and I still feel those swirly-whirly-in-my-stomach feelings of sadness and change, even though those days are long behind me.
It makes me feel homesick, even when I’m sitting in my house. Did you ever feel like that?
This summer, I had the absolute pleasure of spending five whole weeks in Wisconsin. Somehow, this visit to my hometown felt even “homier” than other visits. (Maybe because of the length of my stay?) Five weeks is longer than I typically get to stay at our cabin in the woods by the big lake (Superior). Most summers, I love being up there, and then I am ready to get back to Florida—maybe even itching to get back. I had none of that itchiness this time around.
It felt like home.
Now, we haven’t lived in Wisconsin since 1993—32 years! I’ve lived most of my life in Florida. Florida feels like home, too. A humid, sweaty, lizard-infested home. But also beautiful: palm trees, beaches, interesting foliage, and my favorite—sunshine!
It feels like home.
Perhaps more than the physical structure of a house is what we find so attractive. Oh my gosh, if you could’ve seen the house we bought for our four years in Delaware! We bought it from a family with four children, the youngest were three-year-old triplets! They ran amok in that house with crayons, markers, and whatever else they could get their hands on! There was a half-eaten frozen pizza on the kitchen counter when we first saw the house with our realtor. One of the beds upstairs was in shambles. But, under all those crayon-marked walls and pizza crusts, I felt like it was home.
I have been blessed enough to always have people to share my home with whom I love and who love me. I know that’s not how it is for many people. I don’t understand why life can be so cruel to some and not to others. All I know is I’m so grateful for the homes I’ve had and the people who are truly my “home.” Why has God given me so much when I don’t deserve it? Answer: I have no clue.
I’m meandering a bit today; perhaps I’m a little rusty at this. All this to say . . .
I hope your home is a place where you feel absolute comfort and peace. Maybe it needs new paint or new carpeting. Maybe there are dustballs so old that they have dustballs. Do you have handprints or crayon drawings on your walls? Just put an empty frame around them and call it “home décor.” Or maybe you’re in a new place and it doesn’t quite feel like home yet. I hope it will soon. Sometimes it just takes time.
I saw this posted on a friend’s Facebook timeline this morning. “Home is the nicest word there is.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder
I couldn’t agree more, Laura. From one girl who grew up “in the big woods” to another!
Wishing you all the comforts of home this week, wherever you may be!
Written with love – – – Patti XOXO
PS – What do you love about your home? I’d love to hear!