
There are few words more peaceful, more blissful than “home”. Just like this quote, my husband and I have built our home to be a collection of what we both love, from the roses in the front flower bed to the books stacked neatly on a side table in the living room, to a hobby room full of our latest projects, to the plants tucked everywhere inside where we can find space.
It’s been almost 10 years since we unlocked that front door together for the first time, excited and nervous, a truckload of furniture and boxes waiting for our attention. One project at a time–a bit of paint here, some trim there, a truckload of flowers there– we have made it ours.
Both of us love our home, of course, and it is immensely flattering when someone else loves it, too. Recently my stepson invited his girlfriend to dinner with us, and as soon as she came in, she commented on all the plants we have everywhere. My stepson bragged to her that all of them are real, which made me smile, knowing he is also proud to show her our home.
Even before we moved into this house, I have thought about how jarring it must have been for the kids to go from one home to the other all these years. One place is chaotic, angry, tense, trash-strewn, with everyone tiptoeing on eggshells to avoid triggering the tantrums of the screeching, bitching time bomb. The other is loud with laughter, full of life and happiness, colored with flowers and plants and photos, with people who take great pride in their home, its cleanliness, and its appearance.
Our home is our refuge. It’s the peace waiting for us at the end of each day. It’s where my husband and I find each other, shut the door, and leave the world outside so we can simply enjoy each other. And when the kids find serenity, comfort, and love there as well, then I am happy, knowing we have done our jobs well and have created a gentle landing spot for their peace, too.
