HOUSE OR HOME

                                                

 When I was a young man, and married for just a couple of years, my bride and I decided to look for a house. We had one child and another on the way and it was time to put down some roots. For me this was just another piece of the puzzle in my on- going life with my growing family. I guess at the time this house was in reality just boards, shingles and nails but I was going to find out how to turn it into a home.

For me the words house and home had always been synonymous in my mind. They both meant nothing more than a shelter but now that was changing and the meanings were taking on separate distinctions in my mind. The recipe for a house was as always, cement blocks, boards, wiring and plumbing and a way to put it all together. A coat of paint, some grass and a doghouse in the yard and you had a house. The home however was more complicated, needing all of that and more and the house basically was just a part of it. For you see bit-by-bit that house was taking on a human touch and that is the real recipe for a home.

In my home, to start with, the main ingredient was she and I. She was the foundation and the mortar in the bricks. She held it all together and the home was built upon her. Then the kids came and we had important parts too but she was the choreographer and we were content to just play our parts and take her lead. In many homes this is reversed between husband and wife, or is shared so equally there is no real clear-cut distinction. It’s not that important who drives the boat. What’s important is that it isn’t rudderless and spinning in circles. In the end however in our case, we all played a part in making the house a home.

When people came to our house I always said, “Welcome to our home.” That is what I wanted them to see. Not the pictures on the walls or the walk-in closets. Not the cupboards in the kitchen or the spacious yard. Those are just fixtures and not what the home was really made of. I wanted them to feel the love and compassion that existed there. I wanted them to leave talking about the home and not the house. From my days as a fireman, I remember standing with people in front of their burnt out houses trying to comfort them. Always I would tell them that as long as they were all safe, the house may be ruined, but happily the home survived. The house will rise again and then the home will be whole once more.

In my case, with my wife’s passing, it’s the home that has suffered and the house is fine. Fixing the home will take a lot more work then fixing a house. Houses can last for centuries and the family that once called it a home will fade away. But new families may come and make it a home again and the house will once again be a happy place. So be proud of your house but be prouder yet of your home. You see in most cases the house is what the builder built-- but the home-- that’s what you built.