Home is where you hang your hat. That is how the expression
goes… We have called many places “home” these last few years, and while I don’t
hang hats so much, I get it. Home is where you are – where your family is, where
you rest, where you come back time and time again. It is familiar and warm, where
you love and cry and dream and gather your strength. I have learned from moving
a few times that it is not so much what *kind* of house you have – square footage,
fancy flooring, designer kitchen… but the people that fill the walls. I would
say I’ve learned this the hard way. When we moved here after living
in an apartment for a year (yes, family of five plus Henry plus my pregnant
self in a 2 bedroom - yikes) I knew I would never take this house for granted.
But you know what? I am embarrassed to tell you, that sometimes I do. Sometimes
I am frustrated by the paint color in the bathroom, and wish that I could
change the original kitchen counter tiles… I find myself wishing for just one
more extra room, and a bigger garage. I catch myself. I rewind. This is the
human condition, right? Never quite satisfied. As an adult I can regulate this
much more, and I realize it is something that I have to keep in check. A new
kitchen counter will not make me “happy.” A bigger garage will not make me “happy.”
And so forth. It would be great to have those things, but in terms of my happiness
level, it will not improve it… I was just as happy living in the 2 bedroom
apartment, if you can believe that. I really was, and that was the best thing
that came out of that situation. I realized I *need* so very little to be
happy. I have to remind myself of this at times. Because the mind covets. We
live in a society that encourages stuff.
Today when I came home after driving all the girls off to
school, I looked at our home with fresh eyes. Our home that keeps everybody
warm, safe, together, and connected… And it made me feel very very happy.
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