What do you think of when you think of home? For me, it’s not the house I lived in the longest or the second longest or even the third longest. It’s not the house I was brought home from the hospital too. Or even the home I purchased on my own in 2018.
This place right here was and always will be, home. Even if somebody else now calls it their home.
This wasn’t just home to my Nana and Papa. It was home to my great-grandmother for two years before her death. It was home to my great aunt who my grandparents helped raise. It was home my mom and all of her siblings. And just about each and every one of my cousins and myself at one point in our lives or another. Nearly every person in four generations of my family has called this house their home, even just for a few moments.
You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am.
It’s also safe to say this was home for many people outside of our immediate family as well. My Nana and Papa never knew a stranger. They welcomed each person into their home with open arms and hearts, no matter their beliefs, their history, or how many tattoos they had on their bodies.
This home was a safe place. Everyone knew they could go there without any judgement or fear. We always knew we would be received with nothing but love from within those four walls.
When we lose someone we love, there is a certain grief we expect to face in the weeks and months to come. Something you are never prepared for is letting go of the physical things, the home.
I know they say you can't go home again.
I just had to come back one last time.
After my grandmother’s service earlier this year, before I left to head back to Nashville, I spent an hour one afternoon in their home alone. To walk around and commit to memory every last possible detail. To smell the smell one last time. To remember and cherish my time in this home. I knew that day when I walked out the back door, it would be my last time in that home.
I recently heard Miranda Lambert’s song The House That Built Me on the radio. It has always been such an emotional song, but never quite hit me as hard as it does now.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it's like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could walk around I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that, built me.
While I know my Nana and Papa will live in my heart forever and that I will see them again someday, I also know that going home will never look the same again for me or my family. I can only hope and pray that the next family that calls this house their home knows just how special these four walls are and are fortunate enough to have and cherish even a fraction of the memories that are held there.
Nana & Papa with their 9 grandchildren, and first 3 great-grandchildren, early 2000s.
I do not own the lyrics quoted above.