Sunday, August 8, 2010

A House is Not a Home

A couple of months ago we took the plunge.  Months before we actually bound together our lives (in the best possible way) in holy matrimony, we bound our lives financially by purchasing a house together. 

It's funny, how a house becomes a home.  When we first set foot in this house, we took mental notes as we walked around.  Wood floors, check.  Scratches on the wall, needs work.  Cabinetry looks pretty new, nice.  Our perspective was objective.  We were merely checking items off our mental lists as we tried to figure out if this house would suit our new life together.  It will be the first time either of us owns property or truly lives by themselves (and still then, not really since we'll be living together as husband and wife), so I think we're an odd combination of minimalistic and optimistic.  We would have been content with something simple and at the same time had grand visions of grandeur.  I hoped for a large kitchen where I could simultaneously mix, chop, and prep without having to constantly rearrange for more space.  I desired a walk-in closet because luxury of having one is one I've become accustomed to.  But I also desired a house where space would be used and lived in, not observed and kept pristine.  The home I grew up in had always been just that - a home - and I was eager to nest and create my own.

Not long after we took our initial walk through, we went ahead and purchased our house.  As months went by, we finally sealed the deal.  This house, full of potential and hope for the future, was ours.  Is ours.  We've spent the past couple of months transforming the empty house into our home.  We've painted, installed rolling cabinets, cleaned, moved in our stuff, and have slowly but surely claimed this little house as our own.  As we've poured our time, sweat, and energy into this house we've come to love it in a way we would not have had everything been done for us.  I see the places where the teal paint bled on to the white cabinets, and while it's a point of frustration for my perfectionist self, I know that I did that and I will eventually fix it.  I see the floor, once covered in dust and construction grime (we are having some work done professionally), shiny and new looking and I realize that I did that.  I watch our furniture arrive and I think to myself "wow, that is the sofa I'm going to throw myself on at the end of the day, and the dining room table we'll use when we host Thanksgivings and Christmases."  Everything is coming together and our house is becoming a home.  Our home.  The home of a Mr. & Mrs. so filled with joy and hope and anticipation of the rest of their lives together.

It is my house of dreams.  Not because it has amenities up the wazoo, but because it's where the seeds of the hopes for the future are planting themselves.  This will be the place where T and I start our marriage, where we raise our children (someday, hopefully), and where we will fight and make up, rest after work, and entertain friends and family.  I could not be more excited.  :D  Oh yes, and I'm getting married in 6 days.  That's certainly exciting too :)

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