It is quite natural to get attached to homes if we have invested our hearts into them. Even the walls of such homes become receptive.
Recently I happened to read an article, which stirred my emotions intensely and took me down the memory lane.
My dear friend Lisa Thomson says, “A house has no feelings or attachments. It doesn’t love us back. Walls really don’t talk, and that’s probably a good thing.”
We convert a house into a home when we get emotionally attached to it.
HOME THAT NURTURED ME:
The home in which I grew up is still very much a part of my ardent memories as this was the place that nurtured me from the age that was most impressionable.
The excitement of an eight-year-old child is still very fresh in my mind. I can smell the fragrance of new paint and wood even now. Whenever I go down the memory lane, I can experience the friendship of all the nooks and crannies that I explored the very first day I stepped into this house our father got designed for us.
This house cherished my dreams, cushioned my lonely moments, provided solace to my disappointments, gave shape to my adventures and inspired me to aspire high.
Every wall was a supporting shelter, how much I could share my thoughts with them, silently!
The walls of my room empathized with me when I didn’t sleep well due to examination fever. They rejoiced with me when I turned up the volume of my radio, to celebrate my little moments of joy. They resounded with my giggles in the afternoons.
As I grew up, every brick seemed so precious, every tree of the little garden I loved seemed to cherish my thoughts and provide solace to my distressing hours.
Then came the time to leave my treasured surroundings, my home.
I can still feel the tears of poignant parting on my cheeks.
I hate this age-old tradition of some countries – to leave your maternal home after marriage. The one who created this tradition must be a man for according to this orthodox convention, he doesn’t leave his home; he has the choice to continue living in it or sell it.
I thought I would keep coming back to my home whenever I wanted and I did during the initial years of setting up my new home.
It remains the epicenter of my dreams even now. All family get-togethers are hosted in this home even now… but in dreams.
I can no longer visit it in real life because it was sold…and that is another story!
HOME THAT DEFINED ME:
Despite all those attachments I had with that home, which remains the backdrop of all my dreams, I was pleased to find a new one that anchored me and promised myself to make it more loving than the one that had raised me.
A home cannot be built in a day…it encompasses in itself the dreams and the aspirations we hold close to our heart, the hopes that we gather with each passing day, the goals that we achieve together.
A home lounges on the care and affection we shower on each other, the time we offer to understand the needs and desires of a family, to live through the difficult times together and to support each other despite minor differences.
This home I acquired became my treasure house, a nest, which was filled with the babble of my little children and the love of my hubby. It accumulated and absorbed all the memories, all the celebrations and the moments of intense joy, of raising my kids and exult at their little achievements.
I have no doubt that even the walls around me shared my elation.
Time just whizzed by and before I could realize its pace, my kids grew up into fine individuals, ready to soar!
Now I could grasp the truth of this statement and what my friend Lisa has articulated: “Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.” – Robin Hobb
Though my work kept me very busy and the walls of my home as welcoming as ever but time stood still.
A part of me seemed to have walked away with my grown up children.
Now I just clung to my home and the loving memories that were attached to them. I tried to make it warmer with more pictures of my family.
I have been trying to understand the ironies of this life, which provides natural attachments.
I have been trying to detach from all those people and homes, which hold us to ransom, extracting all our emotions.
I have moved once again from my home, into which I had put my heart and soul to be near my children.
Now I have double memories and none of my dearest homes – one got sold and the second lies locked with all those treasures I had amassed!
Do you have any such memories and attachments? Do they haunt you?
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