Home is where your junk is.

I am packing up my house to move. I see the walls, growing more & more empty, save for those nails, and little holes...

The floor space diminishes both walking space & the ability to view larger pieces of furniture, which shouldn't matter anyway - those shelves & cabinettes are bare of knick-knacks, books etc.

Now my home is shifting back in time, to 'a house.'

When we first viewed it, it was someone else's home. The next time, just a house, empty & void of all the things that make a building, a residence, a home. No people, no belongings, just a warm, dry place that shelters one from the elements.

Now my home is becoming a house again.

While the beings still reside, and occupy the space, all the things that make it a home, that prove we live there, that make it 'ours' and special, are little by little, leaving...

It no longer looks like 'home,' so it no longer feels like 'home' here.

I am one of those persons who feels that a home reflects those that dwell there. Now, if you walk in, you no longer see a bit about the kind of souls that inhabit the building, you only see the status of our lives.

Instead of the treasured & displayed items that please us, you will only find items of use. You will find toys that provide pleasure (often, the kids use the boxes to play on, imaginations not limited by the shrinking floorspace), and dishes that suggest we live here, but little evidence of who we really are.

I know this packing must be done. I know that this is merely a step towards the new home. But for a woman, a 'nester,' this is devestating.

Frankly, it freaks me out when I return 'home' to find it really isn't home anymore.

It is just a building that shelters us, for now.

Do me a favor? Take a moment this week to dust off your colectibles, run your fingers along the spines of your books, and take a moment at a commercial break to really look at the pictures displayed above the tv set - and as you do so, enjoy those bits of you that are on display.

If they weren't there, trust me, you'd miss them...

Article by Pop_Tart


 Subscribe!
Email address: 


Unsubscribe from the newsletter