What does home mean to you? For me, it’s a warm place to return to; a place to be the true me, the private me; a safe place for my family to be and grow. It’s not so much the house itself, the bricks around us, or the belongings that surround us…it’s that sense of calm and peace that makes me feel like kicking off my shoes and settling in.
My lovely Grandad died in December and we are nearly at the end of the physically and emotionally exhausting process of clearing his home, a house where he’d lived for almost 40 years. It’s a place that holds a lot of childhood memories for me and has always felt like a refuge should I need to get away. Materially, it was full of the debris of a life well-lived: prized possessions, love letters from my Granny from their courting days, and enough tools to sink a ship!
Sorting through all of this stuff has made me realise that once a life has been packed away in boxes, a house is just a house and we carry the memories away with us. We shut the front door and don’t look back.