What is a Home without a House?

It may be true that home is where the heart is, but the heart has to have a body, a vessel, in order to live and love and feel. Now that my family home has been sold, the heart of our home is displaced, literally and figuratively, temporarily held in a box until it can be established in a new place. The walls that have been privy to so much, that have given the heart of our home a body for twenty years will now be the host of a new heart to a different family.

This home was built by us and for us. Our house was the first one on the whole corner. As a kid, it felt like we were the pioneers, making our way into a new, uncharted territory. The house grew with us and adapted to life’s changes with us. Over time the place that it became was an invaluable treasure trove of memories and life and love. The amount of money that it was sold for could never measure up to the value that the house held. Not only do the memories make the house invaluable, but the needs that it met for so many people and the safety it provided was invaluable as well. Whether friends or family, it was considered a home and a safe place to many who didn’t make up our biological “family”. From displaced teenagers to missionaries, countless people knew the McDonald House as a home away from home; they knew it as a consistent place and a safe place.

The living room saw many family movie nights, parties, and sleepovers. The bathroom was privy to the first baths of my two brothers and my own son. My mom and dad’s room saw my father studying for many, many nights and many Sunday afternoon naps following church. Our bedrooms gave us a place to be ourselves, to sleep, to read, to play music, and to have friends. The kitchen saw so many family dinners, homework being done at the kitchen table, and songs being sung. The yard saw so many pool parties, baptisms, bonfires, dogs, projects, games, and my dad’s persistent need to mow every three days for the entirety of my childhood. The memories listed only scratch the surface of what this house was to us.

The house was also there for the bad times, the sad times, and the sicknesses. It gave me a safe place to come home to after two failed marriages. It was a place that we gathered at following a death or a funeral. We most definitely had a wake for Eddie VanHalen in the kitchen. It provided us a place to rest and recover after being ill. It saw the fights, the tears, break ups, heartache, and it provided comfort just the same.

The very street that our home was on houses a plethora of memories that will still be associated with our home. Friends lived a few doors down, my very first job was at an establishment located down the street. The first long term location for the church I grew up in was a mile down the road. We hiked the woods behind our house multiple times during my childhood. My brother, sister, and I all learned how to drive on that street and in the church parking lot.

So how does one even begin to say goodbye to a place that holds such a value? With the great, overwhelming sadness I feel at the loss of our family home, I am incredibly grateful for the years that I was able to spend there. I am incredibly grateful for the people, my family, who I treasure more than our family home. After all, it would only have been a house without my family, who made it a home. This situation serves as a reminder to value each season of life and what it provides us.

As the closing date approaches, I am reminded that after all is said and done and the keys are left and we close the door and pull out of the driveway for the last time, a chapter in the life of my family will end and a new one will begin. However, we will all still have each other and the memories that we created there, and that is even more valuable than the place where the memories were created. To my family, I love you, and I can’t wait to make new memories and have a new adventure with you.