Thursday, 9 January 2014

A letter to... home

Where would I send it to? My letter to home?

An odd question perhaps when I sit here in my house, surrounded by my possessions, so much stuff accumulated through the years making my house a family home.

… and yet …

We’ve not long returned from my parents where we celebrated Christmas with four generations of family under one roof. Anywhere your heart feels snug and wanted – that’s got to be more homely than a pile of bricks and a mountain of objects.

Every time we visit my parents there’s a point as we cross the invisible line between one county and another when my heart soars as I feel once more drawn into a homely embrace. This is where I grew up, even Andrew would remark that I changed when we got there, getting louder and more excitable.

But then as we leave and after a long drive northwards there’s a similar spot where I knew without a doubt that I have returned to another home. These familiar twists and turns of the road are the ones I drive almost daily and I smile thankful for a safe trip back to my own front door.

I know I am blessed to have two places in the world where I feel so loved and secure.

However I have reached a curious moment in time where I have lived half my life in the south east of England and half in the north east.

Pinpointing exactly where I feel I most belong is hard.

What exacerbates the confusion in my mind is that the house where I live feels less and less like a home. It has become a big burden, a place of memories with too many overwhelming responsibilities. A house too big for only three of us, not quite as cosy and warm as I want my home to be.

Oh it’s welcoming, accommodating, you’ll always get a cup of tea when you visit but that is down to the family that lives here who throw open the door. 

This is still our home because this is where we live, it is a part of us.

I remember the day we moved in, the plans we had, the work we’ve had done, the laughter, the hassles, the plaster that fell down with a loud thud, stripping woodchip from ceilings and painting every spindle.

But I am ready to move on, I need to move and establish something new.

We won’t be far away, we are tied to school and college and friends and church…

… and so I wonder, if I were to write another letter home in a couple of years’ time, just where I would send that letter to?

Once again linking with Ruth and Sabrina for the last ever Letters to... prompt!

And this is why selling my house is my number one priority for 2014, if you like it is my New Year's Resolution. Of course there is much more to it that I have written here and moving is a daunting prospect. 

Please pray for a buyer, pray that I can find somewhere new for us to live and that I have the strength to sort out all the "stuff", much of it Andrew's, and the wisdom to know what to do with it! Thanks x

1 comment:

  1. You have my prayers...that a buyer will emerge and this will be your year!
    I too have different places I call home. I come from East Sussex, and lived there for twenty one years, now I've lived in West Wales for twenty one years too...I feel that both are home!