Houses and Homes

There are two regular columns in the NY Times that I enjoy reading--Modern Love and Anxiety.  Both are sort of "human interest" essay features, where known and unknown writers reflect on some aspect of life. While many of the stories in Modern Love deal with romance, the topic is much broader addressing parenting, families, pets, and all sorts of relationships. Similarly, Anxiety, while focused on the issues that make us anxious, often drifts into the land of Modern Love, and, too, is about our relationships and their meanings in our lives. This week there was an entry in Anxiety titled, "You Are Going to Die." Written by a middle aged man, it is a story of all the emotions that go along with watching your parents age.

I've started to look for a new house and have been thinking a lot about what it is I want in my abode, what features are important, what, if any, things are essential?  Do I need a garage?  I think so.  Do I need 2 bathrooms?  Pretty sure.  One story or two?  Brick, vinyl, wood?  Fireplace would be nice. Modern or colonial?  Light or dark?  Lots of decisions.  What will this house say about me?

Thinking of the house I grew up in, a patchwork of odd sized rooms and mismatched levels, I can't imagine any other home really being "mine." So, I was struck by this line in the essay, referring to the author's childhood house, "However infrequently I go there, it is the place on earth that feels like home to me, the place I’ll always have to go back to in case adulthood falls through."

"...in case adulthood falls through."  What a great phrase.

My siblings and I sometimes talk about what will happen to our childhood home when my father dies or can no longer live there. My dad moved to that street nearly 70 years ago, living first with his parents and then, after marrying, moving next door. The house itself has undergone many transformations. Rooms added on, color changed, landscaping altered.  But, it is the place on earth that feels like home to me.  And the place I would still want to turn to if adulthood falls through.