I’d like to know what “home” means to you? What is it that makes you feel at “home?” I’ve been thinking about it and I can’t tell you why. I just have.
I don’t like my house. I loved the house I had when we raised the boys. I LOVED that house, we all did, all of us. We think of it so often and have such good memories. Remember this? Remember that? We do it all the time. We had 3 nice bedrooms upstairs with bathroom. Nice wide open kitchen, dining room, living room and a big family room with bathroom. We all seemed to have all the space we needed.
The house we are in now and have lived in for the past 13 years is very small. It’s an old farmhouse but it’s on GREAT land. 80 glorious acres, all to us. We LOVE that part of living here but I feel bad that I hate my house. The upstairs is almost unusable with the roof the way it’s so sloped. The kitchen is okay if nobody is here. The living room is huge, but it’s the only room we have and when all of us are here, it seems small. The wonderful people who lived here before us did add on but I still wonder why they did it they way they did. One big living room and one big bedroom. There is no privacy for anyone. If we have company, we have the one living room.
Don’t people say when you get older, it’s just the two of you? You don’t need room. Well, we used to have two boys. Now we have two boys, two daughters and 3 wonderful grandchildren so why do people downsize when the family numbers go up???
I got a little off track……sorry
So we have all heard things like “Home is where the heart is” and “Home sweet home” or “Home is where you hang your hat” but I’m left to wonder what that means? When you say your “going home,” does that mean the “dwelling you live in?” Or is home where you grew up? Your childhood home? I’ve heard people say they were “going home” to visit parents or grandparents. So, do we have two homes? The home we live in and the home we grew up in??
I spent every summer of my life, 3 months every summer from the time I was 6 months old until I was 17, with my dad’s family. My grandparents and my dad’s whole family lived in a little town in southern Manitoba and he wanted us to know them so that’s why we stayed there and those memories are pretty much the best memories I have of my childhood. My “home” memories are pretty much at that “house” and with those people. My childhood home isn’t in our family anymore and my grandparents “house” in now one of my cousins so that “home” is still kind of there.
What is your “home?” Is “home where your heart is?”
Us Girls..Our Views 
We have lived in a lot of houses… Yet even my parents old house where I grew up did not feel like home – it was a prickly house, you never felt at ease.
Where we are now is the first place I can honestly call home.
When we walked into the house when we first viewed it even the kids went ahhh, and we all instantly relaxed. It has been like that ever since. And our eldest has made me pinky promise that we will not move again as he likes it here.
To me that means its home. Where you feel at ease even when the world is spinning around you. We love our home.
My home is where I grew up and where I live now which just happens to be close to each other. I’m comfortable and at ease here and I think that makes a house a home.
I don’t consider the place I grew up home at all. When I go back I never say “I’m going home”, I’m just going to cali to see family. Not very good memories. My heart was never there. Never will be. Plus I think I moved a dozen times between the age of 14 & 16. I feel most at home here at my new house. Well it’s pretty old but it’s cozy. Old fashion i guess. Our last house was brand new, no character, no warmth. I feel at home out at “the house”, also. I know it needs some work and it is too small when the whole family is there, but part of my heart is there. It’s been my 2nd “home” for 10 years. One of the constant things in my life that hasn’t changed. So I guess home is where the heart is for me.
@sengdroma..just love the pinkie swear.
Nikki, this will always be your home. If I could have one wish, it would be to have our old house on this land. I’ll bet Jason and Toby consider that old one, home. I’m not sure, we’ll see what they say.
I lived in a medieval house for ten years: despite its age, there was a feeling of peace; no unquiet ghosts – so one ingredient of home is no spirits of former inhabitants prowling around causing trouble.
My home is minnesota. I live in a house. As long as I have My loving wife and baby boy I don’t care where I live. I was offered a job transfer last year out of state and sad too say the only thing that kept us here is friends and family. So my home is minnesota land of horrible season’s and excellent friends.
I call my parents’ house “home” when I’m talking to my parents or siblings, but I call my current house “home” the rest of the time.
I have to say that every place I’ve ever lived has felt like home once I settled in – even my very cramped dorm room which I lived in for just four semesters. I guess for me “home” is where I feel like I can be myself, feel safe, and arrange things for my own comfort.
I guess I have never lived in a place I didn’t like. I appreciated my parents’ houses (the one in the city and the one we moved to in a little town when I was 12) for the things that made my parents buy them – varnished oak woodwork, old-fashioned design, built-in stuff, good surroundings, etc. I liked my dorm room because of the efficient plan and my first crumbly apartment for the fact that it had a lot of windows, even though some of the windows wouldn’t open and others wouldn’t close. I love the floor plan of my current house, the view, the yard, the neighborhood, and the convenient location. But, that doesn’t mean I am simply easy to please; I passed on a fair number of houses before I found one wherein I could imagine finding comfort.
I guess in my younger years, “home” was whatever I could both afford and put up with, and I was good at adjusting; but more recently, I expect “home” to cater to my standards of aesthetics and community. Maybe it’s a woman thing – aren’t we the goddesses of the hearth, after all?
I have lived in many houses in my life.As a child,the farm was home to me,many happy and great times.A feeling of being safe.The last 20 years,i look at my home so differently.To me,home is not about a house.Home to me,is the feeling of contentment and peace you feel as you walk into your house.To sit on the couch,put up your feet,sigh and no you are home.Home is what you make it.I chose to make my home a place you want to come back to,over and over again.Family and friends make a home.And LOVE completes the whole package.
When I was younger and talked about home it was always my parents house. But now that I have children of my own – home is our house. I love my new house. When we were house shopping we had the same feeling we all walked in and knew this was the house for us !!! Our house has a swinging door on it everyone is welcome we always have company. Your home is what you make of it good or bad.
To me, home is wherever my immediate family lives (my husband and kids). My parents built their dream home after I was married and moved out of the house I grew up in, so I have never lived in the house they live in now. However, their house feels “homey” whenever I am there. I guess it’s just because THEY are there. Home for me is whereve my family happens to be.
I consider home to be where i grew up. Which is only 10 minutes from where I live now. But I hate the house I live in now and I hate where its at but my husband wont move. I don’t think i’ll ever consider this “home”. I don’t like the house my parents live in now either. I actually miss the house we lived in from teh time I was 1 till i was 14.