How are you doing? Hanging in there? I've been spending a lot of time this week thinking about home. What does home mean to you?
Is it a place, a person, a memory?
“Home” has changed a lot for me over the years. When I was in college, home was the house I grew up in on the other side of the country, until all of a sudden, it was the tiny apartment I returned to with my fiance after class. When I worked in an office, home was my living room sofa at night. Specifically, the sofa. The past few years, home has been being with my family, wherever they may be, be that my sister's house in Idaho, my Auntie's house in Phoenix, my sister-in-law's in Dallas, or my own backyard here in Orlando.
But in this year of choosing to stay in one place to keep everyone safe, home has become all of the rooms and spaces in this little house we moved into 9 years ago. The house that each of our siblings and their families have lived here with us for extended periods. The house that has witnessed our career changes, and has comforted us through health lows. The house that has kept us safe, and sane, in these long months of the pandemic. This house has turned into a home. I feel so lucky that's it's been a part of our lives.
So even though this year there will be no celebrations in our backyard for Thanksgiving, no plane rides to Idaho for Christmas, no spring break guests or birthday road trips, we'll still have this little house turned home to comfort us.
Some other small comforts this week:
Recognizing small moments of thanks in Zoom meetings.
This human alarm clock (so funny, but if Bri ever tried this I'd murder him).
The next generation, giving me hope for the future.
This truly excellent font, with a side of nostalgia.
Mookie, doing Mookie things (the man is just a joy to watch).
How I know it's time to go to bed each night.
Here are few other things that have helped me get through this week.
I hope they do the same for you, wherever and however you may be.
