"Where is home for you?"
Reid asked me this question once.
At the time, I was too busy eating my tacos to really take him seriously so I almost ignored him.
What did he mean where is home for me?
I thought it was simple...
My home is my parents house in Williamsburg.
Was I wrong?
This was my gut reaction...so clearly, I went with it.
Home is my childhood house.
My bedroom, which still has my pictures from high school up on the walls.
The staircase that I walked down my entire life.
The yard that I spent hours roaming around and have my childhood pets buried.
The living room that we spent every Christmas in and still do.
The window I used to stare out of, waiting in anticipation for my brothers to get home from college.
Home is the house I grew up in.
Home is where my parents are.
Honestly, I have an unhealthy relationship with my parents house. In my mind, it's this all powerful "being" that was there for my entire childhood. It opened it's doors for me when I was brought home from the hospital. Saw me take my first step and go on my first date. It's front porch supported my parents every time I got in my Honda and went back to college. The image of my mother crying and waving goodbye will never leave me. It's walls have a million stories all about me. It wrapped it's arms around me and was always my safe place.
But was all this still true?
I wasn't sure until I saw the look on Reid's face, which immediately told me no.
And then he spoke and the words that came out of his mouth hit me like a ton of bricks.
So simple. So true.
And so what every single girl wants a boy to tell her.
"I want your home to be where I am.
I thought your home was our home.
I think my home is where you are."
After getting over the fact that I had been a complete ass, I felt this overwhelming sense of love for him and the home we are creating in Richmond. I was determined to change my way of thinking and take his words to heart.
A house is just a building with walls, windows, paint and doors. The memories you make in that house are the strong foundation that make it a home.
As we prepare for Lucie's arrival, I feel the overwhelming sense to make our house a home. A home that she will one day remember with the same kind of love and fondness that I feel towards my parents house. And that starts with a major change in mindset. My parents house will always be a home in my mind. I will always love turning onto their street and walking through the front door. It's just not my home anymore. My home is with Reid and our growing family.