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Emily Phillips's avatar

Nothing really grabs at my heart - I mean really grabs it - like when I am very occasionally away from home in the evening, and I arrive home to look inside the window and see my 5 children and husband eating dinner at the table without me. It’s a glowing warm feeling tinged with sadness - what things would be like without me there, yet inviting me in back to my place in the home.

I’m lucky to have been raised in a family where when it’s time to decorate your house, you don’t just run out and buy a bunch of new crap to fill it. You peruse garage sales, antique stores, thrift shops, and wait until the right piece comes along. My bedroom is nearly “complete”, but I’m waiting for the perfect thing to hang above my bed. I’m willing to wait 10 years if need be!

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Amanda's avatar

Your writing today just so perfectly expressed how I feel about my home. My house has been in my family since 1955, I’m the third generation to own the house and property. My grandparents bought it about 10-12 years after it was built and ironically, I grew up in the next town over across the street from the man that built the house for himself and family.

Upon taking over the property 14 years ago I had an opportunity to invite the builder back in to take a look around. I learned so much from him about the house and the decisions he made when he built it. He even gave us all the original blueprints he drew for the original layout as well as future plans he had drawn if he had remained here as well as phots of the build. Lucky me that although he was in his 80s he was still building custom furniture, and I filled my home with good solid pieces from his wood shop. He passed away about five years ago and his words and beautiful pieces of furniture are irreplaceable to me.

My cellar like yours, is made from rocks pulled right out this land as well as the stone walls and outdoor fireplace that was a cook stove in its heyday. My walls are all hand hewn tongue and grove knotty pine boards…it was all the rage in the early 40s but fortunately, the builder had an eye for quality and this pine just glows a warm amber. People who had visited here decades back when my grandparents lived here have stopped me upon learning that I now own the home to say, “please tell me you didn’t remove any of the pine!”

Of course not.

A few times my husband and I thought of moving. We live in a wonderful town but with just under 3/4 of an acre we’re limited to what we can do with our property. Chickens and gardens can happen but not much else. Anyway, every time I’ve looked at homes my issue is always, where’s the character? My home has so much character with it’s frustratingly small doorways, small rooms and low ceilings but, you just cannot find this quality and character in many new homes and some older homes too. But for all my home isn’t, it’s warm and filled with memories.

I’ve stood outside many winter nights and taken in the warm light flowing out from the windows. I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one. I know I will never leave this home. I will die here like my grandparents and my father and I’ve told my husband, I want my ashes spread all over the property.

Thank you for such a beautifully written essay, you’ve really rekindled the love I have for my home. Although, now I’m wondering if the siding that’s been on it for 40 years is itchy. 😬

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