There's No Place Like Home

*Note: My latest post is up at 50-something moms blog Massage Therapy and Acupuncture: Priceless.

On Monday and Tuesday this week I spent time at my daughter's house, aka my house for 28 years. Periodically I go over to work on projects and help out. It's a good arrangement: my daughter likes to have someone visit with the cats, and I get the chance to spend time in a place that still feels like home.

It has occurred to me that my investment in that house was my contribution to our family's stability. As our family grew, I always found a way to make room. Basic upkeep and decorating were under my jurisdiction, and I learned how to make the most of every square inch. As our family's needs changed, I rearranged furniture and re-purposed spaces. Ken and I made the den our room for 12 years because we needed a third bedroom; one friend could not believe that our room didn't have a door or a closet. We made it work because it was the best set-up for our family of five.

In that house I felt self-sufficient. I could manage the house and yard on my own when it was necessary. I felt safe there, and it's comforting to be able to return now. My daughter appreciates my visits, and I am grateful that I still have access to the house that was my home for so many years.

I moved out of my parents' house when I was 19. I didn't look back when I left, and I never thought of it as home again. Though I have been back to visit, I've only stayed there a handful of times in the last 33 years. I left that house for reasons much different than the reasons I moved from the home I owned for 28 years.

Still, only our youngest child will ever call the new house "home," as in he actually spent time living here. Our time here marks a new stage in our lives, as individuals and a family. We are a family of grown-ups, and the memories made here remind me of that. To find my days as a new wife and the mother of young children I have to look elsewhere.

And maybe that is at the heart of why it has been so hard for me to settle into this new house ~ I am not sure who I am here. I don't have a history to fall back on, and my role is not clear. Wife of 30 years? Mother of adult children? Those positions don't come with job descriptions or required daily tasks, and there are no answers to be found in the open sunlit rooms of the new house.

Baby steps. As I left my daughter's house the other evening, I made a mental list of the things I needed to do when I got home. Home, as in where I live now. The journey continues....