Early on in our marriage I realized not to get too attached to the places I lived, which was completely opposite to my personality. I’m the type of person that wants to put down roots and stay awhile. I grew up in the same home, around the same people until I moved off to college so I guess you could say I was taught for most of my life to stay in one place. Adam’s childhood was quite the opposite. He moved every few years, living not only in different houses, but different states.
Our married life has definitely been more about moving than staying, and perhaps it’s normal when you’re first starting out to begin small and upgrade until you find the home/neighborhood that’s right for your family, but it almost seemed like a need, a way of life Adam was use to, so we’ve kept up the tradition and moved along.
Living in five different zip codes and five different homes since we’ve been married (15 years) I’ve tried, like I said, not to get attached. This home we live in now we’ve been here for seven years, the longest of any home, and I am quite fond of it, but honestly no more than the others. I have been fond of all our homes and have cried as we packed up and driven away for the last time. But it’s not the structure I’m sad to leave, it’s the memories I made there I don’t want to leave behind or forget — becoming a mother, crossing the threshold as a new bride, becoming a wife, learning to keep my own home, relationship breakthroughs, having pets, learning to remodel, patience, walks around the neighborhood, baking catastrophes, starting traditions, bringing children home from the hospital — just to name a few.
Five houses later and I understand completely, it’s my most favorite people, my family, that make our house a home. It doesn’t matter where, if they’re filling the spaces with their laughter, music, and words I am home. I’m exactly where I want to be.
This. This is my home. All snuggled up in bed reading a book together.
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