Home is a feeling, a big one.
We stumbled upon ours in 2007 while walking our beloved Max, a homely Boston terrier with a limp, and one eye, but he always had a smile on his adorable face.
We decided to walk down an alley, seeing a sad house with an overgrown yard and a sale sign, things started to line up right away.
After several attempts at home ownership we had given up.
We walked around back, I don’t remember peaking in, just sitting on the back porch, facing a jungle of a yard, and feeling so deeply that this was home.
or at least a home to someone… at some point…
It was apparent this house was empty, and equally apparent that you could stay here and no one would notice.
I was at peace. Me and max returned every morning and evening, we sat on the back porch alone, listening to birds and dreaming of things yet to come.
I came up with a theory that the land had a way of drawing people in, not expecting to become the owner.
10 years down the road, I pull in with my two bratty kids that I also imagined raising on the land that might have sucked me in.
That jungle is now a full fledged back yard, and the lonely house has become our home.
The visions and improvements for this home came to no one but us, I firmly beleive we saved this house, and, well I can only speak for myself, but this house also saved me in a way.
Even the time we moved out I came here for peace. It tethered me to itself.
I wrote three suicide notes here that automatically became useless because I could not end my life here. It would doom this place I loved.
I wrote an unpublished book here.
I even set out on a crazed mission to make it my families home, something I could leave behind for them. If I couldn’t do anything else, I could do my best to take care of them.
As I long for one more bedroom I remind myself of my own childhood, how we moved so many times in order to make things better somehome.
It never worked, and I always wanted to see what it felt like to make things work where you are despite the difficulties of the place.
I never had that, and now it feels like I’m punishing my family by asking for it, but I know better neighborhoods, better schools, better houses, better jobs, they really aren’t any better. If anything they just get you lost.
I love this home we’ve made, and when returning here is still an option, leaving here will always be a harder option for me.