Sunday afternoon my 13 year struggle to love this old not perfect house came to an end.
It’s not the house I imagined as home in this phase of my life. I wanted a fireplace with open spaces and a spectacular kitchen. Yes, and would Sarah Richardson please decorate it?
It is big; I’ll give it that!
Instead I have a big old house with challenges.
Did I mention it is a 216 year old house?
Oh, yes, there are challenges.
After retirement from the army and a life of moving, we moved our family again for a 2nd career back overseas. Soon, we knew we needed a house in the states for our college kids to come home too and a place to live for the rest of us during our trips back.
We needed an anchor home. Our TCK (third culture kids) children needed it. We all needed an anchor home. A home for our hearts. We hadn’t had one since my folks’s home sold.
I call it a heart home for this side of heaven.
Sunday was a magical day. Lunch at Nancy and Nathan’s home then naps in our own homes. Dinner in the yard.
Floats. Nothing says summer like floats!
As we carried out the table, blue ball jars with the colorful straws, leftovers and fixing, as the girls laughed and played, I knew. It had been creeping up on me with increased intensity for weeks.
Sunday, as I listened, I realized it had happened.
We had our heart home.
This old house full of memories in the making with
the tumbled mess of an attic five exterior doors for rousing games of hide and seek running in and out brick walls, funky paneling
The “Avocado”, the girls’ special spot, an unexpected closet
Beckoning porches creaky and creepy in the dead of night original wood floors a slanted roof for star gazing tire swing
It’s not elegant or beautiful. It is creaky and old. It is home.
There will still be design stuggles for me and maintance struggles for Jim. It will never be “perfect” and Sarah will never darken my door.
It’s okay because…
we have our heart home.
What makes your house a home?