I grew up in a big house, not a mansion but in my memory it was a big house. My parents had a huge room with a big window that looked out onto the garden. My brother and I each had big rooms plus we had a toy room and our kitchen was enormous. Our garden was huge, there was a pool, a swing my oupa and dad had made, a tree house and an avocado tree that I very clearly didn’t appreciate enough.
Why am I telling you this? A few months ago David and I decided to put our home on the market. I was a part of the decision and agreed to it but once we had made the decision, it triggered major anxiety on my part. I didn’t expect to react the way I did. Earlier this week we decided to take the house off the market and it was like everything shifted back into place.
I grew up in one home. I lived there until I was 17 and then moved out (and then back in again but that’s not the point). That house represented stability, security and was a very big part of my life, and I assume my parents and my brother.
I have incredible memories in that home.
I remember jumping off the wall into the swimming pool.
I remember swinging too high on the swings.
I remember waking up on Christmas morning and seeing the Christmas tree lights sparkling down the passage.
I remember sleep overs and playing with neighbours.
I remember the floods that happened in the 80’s and our neighbours house literally floating past.
I remember learning how to drive there.
I remember slamming doors and sulking in my room.
I remember the avocado tree and the huge mess it made.
This is what the home we are now living in has come to mean to me. It is not just a building where we sleep, it is a part of my children, a part of David and I and the memories we are making. It is also stability.
The walls of our home hold our family secrets and memories.
The walls of the passage hold my silent cries in the middle of the night as I walked up and down with a baby who wouldn’t sleep.
The walls of our bedroom hold the fights David and I have that no one but us will ever hear.
The walls of our lounge hold the laughter as we play Lego or watch a movie.
The walls of our kitchen hold the successful meals we have prepared and ones that weren’t so successful.
My office holds the story of business and has heard my frustrations and my triumphs.
Our home is the setting for our story.
It is where we became a family, where Cameron and Kiara found stability. It is where Emma and Jack came home to after they were born.
It is where we have celebrated first steps, first days of high school, new jobs, engagements and birth announcements.
Every cracked tile, chipped wall and leaky tap and spill on the carpet has a story. It has our story and it is not one I am willing to change just yet.
I know many people have lived in different homes and moved around a lot. David grew up like that. Perhaps if you grew up like that a house is merely bricks and walls and that’s ok. To me, it is more and I want it to be more for my children.
10 Responses
Oh Laura – I totally agree. I need that stability
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I remember crying about leaving my bedroom behind when we moved into our last home at the age of 8! Boy was I upset. I ended up growing up in the home we moved into and had happy memories there. We moved into a rental a year ago, and our 4 year old still cries about the old house, which is where both our kids lived their entire lives before moving. We won’t stay in this rental, but I hope to have a “forever home” / dream home one day!
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You are an exceptional blogger, what a beautiful post, thank you for sharing. Love the pics of the kids! Can really relate
Wow. I wish to find a home like this someday.
I grew up in a home like this – my parents’ house used to be the house where my mom grew up – years later my parents bought the house. Long lost family would find us at that house because they knew it was my grandparents’ place back then.
Great decision – to trust your gut.
Every house that you lie in have memories. The great thing about moving is that you can create new memories with your family.
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I’m glad you’re keeping your home. 🙂
I’ve lived in the same home growing up and my parents are still there.
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yep total agree with, a home is more then just bricks and walls its where memories are made for me
I’m glad you’re keeping your home! You’ve always spoken fondly of it to me.
I used to feel like this but something changed for me recently. I went back to our old house for mail and they showed me around. And…. the house wasn’t special anymore – it was a normal house. I realised then that it was us and my touch that made it so special to us and that I can create that vibe anywhere (well, anywhere within reason :))
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Yes Marcia there is that and I agree with it. But I have felt emotional when I have visited my childhood home over the past few years.
Luv the post. I also have great memories of the house we grew up in, the way we would ride our bikes and roller skates in the road with all the kids in the area and sneaking out the house to wake up your friend next door cos there was something important you forgot to tell them. Yes the houses we have grown up in make plenty memories and Im hoping my children will make the same memories