Today I am thankful for my home.
Growing up my family lived in the apartment above my paternal grandfather’s house. In that apartment fit lived my mom, brother and I. My brother and I used to sneak out the kitchen window and sit on the roof above the breezeway where my grandfather had his television set up. Once we tried to zipline out our second story bedroom window on the clothesline that was attached to a backyard tree. Every spring we got mice because on down the block the fire department burned down the field to tame the overgrowth and forced those little critters into the neighborhood. My best friend lived four houses down (hi Sue!!) and my other BFF was across the neighborhood (hi Kristen!!) My maternal grandmother lived seven houses down. We moved across town into our very first ‘real’ house when I was about 13. Every holiday season I wonder if I drove by my first home if the current owners would let me in to look around (I think it’s been converted into a single family home.)
That first apartment was the size of my current family room. Yes, my first home was tiny and my current home is decidedly not tiny. The mortgage is closer to being paid off than not. Our landscaping is a bit lacking and fence needs to be removed. My kids leave toys across the house. The bathrooms are never clean enough. The sink usually has dishes in it and the dishwasher is in perpetual need of being emptied or filled. Laundry is a constant headache. My home office – and entire basement – need a clean-out.
But we have a home. And heat/air conditioning. And food. It’s the only place my kids know as home. And it is all for them.