We’re finally building a Home.

The five of us congregated to the family room and found sitting spaces on the floor, the futon and the fireplace. We had successfully moved the bulk of our furniture to storage and my husband was preparing for his return trip to Colorado.

Middle Sprout asked her dad, “What do you remember most about living here, dad? You do know it’s your last night here…ever.”

My husband sat quietly with her question and I could tell he was struggling for a meaningful response.

“Christmas,” he quietly reflected. “I loved Christmases here.”

What a surprising answer, I thought. We didn’t spend one single Christmas Eve in this house.

I’m sure he meant the time leading up to Christmas with the sledding, snowball fights, ice skating, tree decorating and the singing of Christmas carols. Christmas season is the time of year when our schedules slow and we are able to spend our most quality time together as a family. It’s traditionally been the only block of time in the year when my husband doesn’t work himself to the bone.

I’m glad those are the memories he cherishes.

I’m glad he didn’t pick the projects and renovations, or the times he was away from the house for work and hockey (which were numerous) or the hours he worked at his home office in order to provide for this family. I’ve come to appreciate his compulsion to construct, improve and provide.

For not one second of our marriage have I gone without provision and I am genuinely grateful for that. I do, however, look forward to relishing more time together in our new home.

We’ve lived in seven places and renovated five houses…it’s time for us to come home.

We are setting ourselves up for a radical lifestyle change, and there are parts of it that make me anxious. We have gotten very good at seeing the potential in a pre-loved home. He fixed, repaired and together we prepped all of those properties for eventual sale. We have gotten good at the business of house ownership.

I have no idea how we’ll be at the art of home-making.

I’ve just recently become comfortable with the frenetic, working energy of my husband. He loves by acts of service and I’ve taught myself to love him for it.

It takes time to get used to the rhythm of a person and we’ve just started to perfect the movement around and away from one another.

I hope we can find comfort in being still.

It will be a strange adventure for all of us to build a home from scratch. I’ve never put much color on our walls (or hung art, or bought rugs). I’ve only picked out the improvement that would make the most sense as an investment.

We’ll be busy during the build…of that I have no doubt. I’m simply preparing myself for when the dust finally settles.

Our house ownership mimics our marriage in many ways. We have noticed and worked to repair and improve the places that needed some love. I hope we are never comfortable sitting still long enough that the house simply erodes around us.

I’d like to say I know for sure it won’t…but we’ve never done this before, and we have no practice at this sort of home ownership.

I’d love to hear what it is about your house that makes it a home. (I’m looking for ideas and inspiration)

 

                                                       

Copyright 2013    Meagan Frank                           Choosing to Grow                                 www.meaganfrank.com