Home is a variety of places for different people. It may be a tent, a mud hut, a two up, two down, a flat or a mansion. There may be many different reasons why we live where we do. Financial, job relocations, marriages, deaths, a longing to escape, a having no choice.
We can feel at home in more than just our home address, at a friends, at a church, at a coffee shop(:-) ), browsing in a book store(another delight), in a place of work. The adage is “There’s no place like home” but for some home is a place of fear not safety, a place of dread, not security. There are the people who can feel relaxed and at home anywhere and there are those who cannot wait to reach their front door and hang up their mask along with their coat. The painted smile they wear all day is a torture to be endured.
For myself, home is where I love to be and am most comfortable. I feel secure and not judged. I feel the freedom to be myself, however unlovely that may sometimes be. We are fortunate now to live in a very nice house but that wasn’t always the case. Just over 3 years ago we lived in temporary accommodation for a year. It was a very small 4 bedroom house with serious damp issues and heavily expensive storage heaters run by an electric meter. My husband and I slept most of that year on sofas in the living room or on a mattress on the floor because our bedroom was covered with mildew. This is why we are so grateful to live here now.
When I’m away from home which is very seldom, I miss my children and my husband. They are my reason for being and what makes me tick. I love the early morning cuddles with the children before they go to school. I love the bedtime story reading. We have a lovely squishy sofa where we all like to sit together and watch films.
Home is where our piles of books live, gleaned from charity or free book shops, occasionally bought new. Everything from the history of the 21st Century to the whole range of Jeremy Clarkson to countless Bibles and Bible Commentary’s. A rich source of information on a huge range of subjects.
I love going away and staying in a hotel room with crisp clean sheets but at home my bed is worn in just right. I can sit up in bed in the mornings and watch the sun rise through the windows. Our home does not belong to us, it belongs to our landlady, but for now its our retreat and sanctuary.