What is a home?
Looks like our move-in deadline of June 30th is going to come and go. And we’re going to have to bump it again. I would love to say July 15th, but why set myself up for another disappointment? I’m now aiming for July 30th. Thirteen months after we bought the house. And it makes me feel like crying. Not as a superficial, I’m mad I can’t live in this beautiful home kind of way, but in a deep sorrow kind of way. I’ve been thinking about why I feel like life is on hold while we live in our apartment. Why indeed. I’ve got my kids, my husband, my job, some of my furniture, my guinea pig (OK, it’s really my daughter’s guinea pig, but I have a soft spot for Patches). Nothing drastic has changed in my life. The more I think about it, the more I realize all the things that make a home, my rental apartment is not.
A home is consistency, predictability, reliability.
A home is neighbours.
A home is a neighbourhood.
A home is a yard, or a front porch.
A home is roots.
A home is traditions.
So aside from the excitement at the thought of living with marble herringbone floors, I truly truly truly want to move into my house and start growing my roots. Right now I’m feeling a little like one of those dandelion fluffs floating around on the wind.