This picture lives at my house, in my bedroom, next to my closet–a closet full of high heels, of course. And the words on the picture are as true today as they were on the day this wall hanging became a part of my home. For me, home IS where you hang your heels.
But…home is also so much more.
Sometimes, two places “fit,” the place where we grew up, and the place where we, as adults, choose to live. One isn’t better than the other, they’re just different, with each embodying unique meanings and feelings. Having just returned from a trip to Minnesota, in the United States, where I grew up, this realization sunk in as I flew away, back to my new home in Washington state. I grew up in between the farms of rural America, and the lovelies in this picture are my parents, with my son, Julian, snuggled in between. My parents are aging, as am I, and time with them seems precious, as well as never enough. Things that used to be important to me no longer really exist, and things that I used to “push away” are now the elements of life that I hold close to my heart. All of this, and the awareness of this, has completely altered my definition of “home.”
Because no matter where I hang my heels, a good part of my home is…them. My Mom and Dad, and every memory we’ve been blessed to create together.
Like, watching my son and Dad fish together. Taking my Mom for a walk. Smelling my Mom’s scent on the sweater she gave me. Chuckling at my Dad “reading a paper” while falling asleep.
Adjusting my brain to two televisions running at once…one with Gunsmoke playing all day, and the other with baseball on whenever available to watch. Finding Mom’s hidden stash of chocolate down by the pots and pans in our kitchen counter…then rolling my eyes at mealtime when the two of them “quarrel” over who ate more sweets for lunch.
Feeling the warmth of their hugs…smelling the scent of their skin…hearing the love in their voices…accepting their touch on my back.
Home isn’t a building. It’s not a location. It’s not the place where you sleep. It is LOVE, found within the heart, a home that exists anywhere, anytime, in all bodies willing to feel it.
Home is…them.
The people they were…
…the people they’ve become.
And I love my home, because of them.
Thank you Mom and Dad, for giving me…YOU.
xoxoxo
So, so beautiful, I can’t stop crying and feel so blessed. Thank you for your precious love. Now I hope I can stop crying as I am going to Sunday School
I LOVE happy tears! Let them fall…just remember to carry some tissues. 💕
So true! Written beautifully…Thank you for sharing 🙂
Thank you…😊
Such a beautiful post. It brought joyous tears to my eyes. I feel the same way- what’s really important is so clear now. No time to waste – giving love freely, laughing fiercely and basking in those tiny ordinary moments that hold the true weight of life. 💓
Absolutely. I can tell by reading your posts that you have a heart as big and “soft” as mine 💜 So awesome to finally be at an age where the important things shine clearly. Thanks for your comment!
Beautiful Amy. Crying cuz those are my same thoughts and feelings. I glad you’re back. Time is precious and fleeting.
Love you, sis ♥️
I love you grandma and grandpa!
❤❤❤
Amy, this is a very sweet tribute to your parents, my aunt and uncle. You were born the year I graduated from high school, so I have never gotten to know you. You seem like a wonderful woman who loves her family….something we have in common.
What a kind thing to say…thank you. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday during one of my visits “home.” 😊❤️