Salt Lake City, UT
West Lake Village, CA
Eaton Terrace, London
(this isn't my actual townhouse, but you get the idea)
Rue Duvivier, Paris
Highlands Ranch, CO
There were a few other cities and lots of other houses, but I don't remember them well. Or maybe I try not to remember them well because they were where the sad parts of my childhood occured. But in thirty-two years I've had the privilege of living in many, many happy homes. These were the places where I loved and felt loved. Where I learned what it means to heal and start over, to stretch in uncomfortable ways, to fall in love, to become a mother, and to become a family. These were the places where I learned about happiness.
We had our first baby while living in Riverside Condos in Provo. The night before we moved away to Phoenix I wandered from room to room remembering. The living room where we had hosted SO many parties. The kitchen where I learned from my mother-in-law to make rolls. The bathroom where I bathed my newborn for the first time, turning the faucet on her full blast to "rinse" her because I didn't know about sponge baths in the sink. I also said goodbye to the computer room where I wrote my Master's thesis in the months after my daughter was born. The nursery where I brought my baby home. Our bedroom with the lovely red wall, and a view of a storage facility and then the mountains behind. That night I tearfully sought closure with that home that was so good to us, and played such a vital role in the memory making of our little family.
Riverside Avenue, Provo
When I think back on our condo in Provo, and the other homes from my past, it reminds me that I need to work hard to fill every room of my current house with happy memories. It's a private goal of mine, I suppose, to leave every house feeling like that was where goodness and happiness revisited my family.
Which of the homes in your life feel the most like home?