As I was leaving the house this morning, just like most other mornings, I was struck with that longing. That, I don't want to go kind of longing. I love my house. I love being here and being comfortable and all that comes with it. I love knowing where I am and where I belong. I love it when our legs are intertwined as we sit on the couch, just hanging out together. I love when we both work together on a project that has meaning to us. Like ripping up the pepto pink shag carpet together. I loved that.
I don't think I ever really believed that whole "home is where the heart is" thing. I had always replaced the "home" with "family" and that was what made sense to me. But I think I actually have found a place where I do feel like my heart is there. And naturally, it would not be the same without those people, the family I love, my sweet husband. But it is now both. And last night, as Scotland and I discussed the our options, the topic of selling the house and moving came up. And it made me sick to think about it. Because for the first time in my life, I don't want to move. I don't look at it as an adventure and something fun and different anymore. I like where we are at.
Huh. Wow. I like where we are at.
If you had told me I would feel like that a year ago, when we were just getting ready to put an offer on this house, when Scotland had to talk me into it, and I made lists of the pros and cons and worried about living in a "grandma's house" I would never have believed you. (prize for the longest run-on sentence ever!) I never could have believed that I would really be liking where we are a year down the road. But what can I say? Grandma's playhouse has grown on me, because we made it ours.
So tonight, I will leave my heart at home, where my husband can come home and find it while I am away for the weekend. But I will still be longing for home, and longing for him while I am gone. Wishing for those ruby slippers, so I can click my heels and be home again.
No comments:
Post a Comment