We are home for each other
I’ve found in these past 8 years of marriage of living in apartments that the floor plan or decor doesn’t matter as much as what is happening inside: our hearts for each other, our rituals that knit…
It’s not now, but someday we will build a home we really love.
It’s something Matthias and I have been thinking about and talking about for many years, so we have a lot of dreams for it; and whether it ends up being small or large, temporary or forever, we dream of the details that will make up our home.
I dream of wall of southern windows, so we can enjoy our days, even indoors, with all natural light. A bright home full of sunshine without any need to flip on artificial lights during the day is so magic to me.
I love the look of wrap around porches and the romance of a covered porch, but I’m unwilling to give up the light reaching into my home and falling onto my floors and furniture.
I know some people hate that and draw the blinds to avoid the aging of floors or furnishings caused by sun, but I love it.
I want to see the sun spilling in morning and evening. I want the light to be so consistent and beautiful during the day we don’t turn lights on until the lamps are needed, creating a calm ambience at the end of our days.
Light. It was the first thing I thought of when we started talking about building a home together.
What will the light be?
What will it look like when we’re waking up and drinking coffees, making our traditional Saturday morning chocolate chip pancakes for our boys?
And the afternoons, in that little lull of sleepiness for little people during the day, will we be able to sit on our couch, in the warm natural light, as we read the many books my children love?
And in the evenings, where will the sun come in for its last bit of magic before nightfall?
Light. It’s almost all I could think of. But there is more.
I want enough rooms so we can have more children. I envision our family growing more and we’ll need space for all those people.
And there’s got to be room for a extra large dining room table. One that seats at least 10, and is comfortable enough for family dinner each night. And hosting friends regularly.
Hopefully it’s inviting enough to spend hours sitting around, eating and drinking and talking and playing games, doing the things that seem most especially important in living a life we love together.
There’s got to be room in our kitchen for lots of beautiful glass and crystal cups and bowls and plates and decanters. Beautiful things we use regularly because life is special and worth celebrating often, and also all the extras: 25 glasses, so we can host the Light Party each year with yummy drinks, and lots of beautiful serving dishes for the All Saints and Souls Day Feast I want to make a tradition.
I want our kitchen and table to be ready to be used well and often. Lot’s of messes made, lots of memories too.
There are many details I could add, like the way we’ve planned a hallway library where the entrance and exit feel invisible and the books endless with a little reading niche perfectly fitted, or the all glass sun room we want off our master bedroom.
But mixed up in all the details is so much more than the physical things we’ve planned out. Our desire is to build a home that suits the life we want together.
It’s not actually about the house. It’s about what we envision happening inside it.
There are many things I imagine we will do when we build to support and enhance the way we love doing life in our home, but I’ve found in these past 8 years of marriage of living in apartments that the floor plan or decor doesn’t matter as much as what is happening inside: our hearts for each other, our rituals that knit us together. Family reading time, family dinners, having our table surrounded by people we love as often as possible, hot drinks and private conversations for Matthias and me after the little boys are down each night.
We are home for each other.
I do really look forward to building together someday, it will be fun and an adventure for us, but this is really good right now too, and I’m thankful.
I’m thankful that I learned before we’ve built that it’s not the house that makes a family happy.
The joy won’t actually be in the southern wall of windows, or any of the other details, though I’m certain they’ll all be perfect because they’re made just for us.
But the best joys are in the life we’re sharing in our home, so I’m not going to wait to be totally enthralled with the life I have with my husband and kids.