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The photo is my son and myself. Now days you can get a photo made to look old like this one. This photo was taken when this was the new look.

Harry S Truman was president when I was born and world war II had ended. I grew up in a time when lunch was put in a brown paper bag and a sandwich was wrapped with wax paper. There was no such thing as pantyhose, we wore stockings that attached to the rubbery clippy things that attached to the girdle. Convenience stores were not common and when we took a trip we packed a picnic basket because many places did not have fast food. Highways had places to pull over and stop, some with picnic tables. Read more ....

Where is home when that place you called home is gone.....

December 27, 2013
Or those you loved are gone.
Recently I felt a mournful sadness and a desire to go home but there is no going back home because those that I truly miss have made their journey from here to eternity. I miss the familiar places and the roads that we traveled so often. I miss being able to hear their voices and the laughing that we often did when we were together.  Everyone always had a story to tell and we shared most anything with each other.  All of them gone one by one and then one day recently I could not swallow due to the intense feeling of grief because I could not go home.
When I walk through the cemeteries and place the flowers on their graves I know that they are not there but their earthly tent has rested in this ground and is a place of remembrance. I have so many questions that I wish I had asked and I wish so much I would have paid more attention to those things that they knew how to do so well. It is natural to grieve and everyone grieves differently.
 That same evening I was in the center room of our home which is a small bedroom that I turned into a sewing room.  It is the room that I allow to be mismatched and filled all the way to the ceiling with most anything.
It is my creative room where a project can lay unfinished, my bobbin lace can be left uncovered and I don't worry so much about putting things away. I stopped because I had a feeling that made me take noticed.  The lamps were lit in the house and all was very quiet.
I looked at the walls and I glance around the room then I walked to the hallway and I realize that little by little we had collected more items from family members than I had realized. It was a slow collection so I guess I never really saw it as I was collecting part of their lives. The picture on the wall (above) with the geese is a photo from my husbands Great Aunts home.  It was faded and no one wanted it so we took it and I carefully removed the picture from the frame and I repainted the picture.
This cabinet belonged to my mother, a gift from my brother and his wife. When I organize and part with things I always give up something of mine before I would give up something of theirs.
Then there are the things that I purchase from thrift shops and through the years I have purchased items that have reminded me of my past or someone in my past. I have a rule that I never spend a large amount of money on such items.  

 I often make changes to our home because I have always been one to move furniture around and never seem totally settled. I think it is good because there is always dust behind that piece that is being moved.  My children always teased me for moving furniture so often but now they do the same.
I don't want to live in a sterile house that echo's and I don't want a dirty or totally cluttered house either.  I have posted several articles about cleaning and I always continue to state it is not the clutter but the dirt under the clutter.  We all have clutter if we truly live in our home.  Yes that is my shabby sink in the guest room, I moved it there for now because it is getting a new home.
I do not have the empty feeling as I did the other day because I just needed a different perspective. You would think that since I am a Grandmother that I would already feel that my home was home but we all have family homes that we once lived and places where our Aunts and Uncles lived that we cherish the times spent.
1950's we lived in a beautiful home
Then one terrible night our home was gone.  We had a close call with death and barely got out.  It was New Years Day and something in the wiring in the kitchen caught fire.  We lost everything.  We were left with only the pajamas we were wearing or so we thought, but there were a few items we were able to salvage.  I understand what it is to lose everything.
When a tragedy such as this happens it is very overwhelming and you never think things will be normal again but life continues and you pick yourself up and go on.  As long as you have your life you must rebuild.
 I now realize that it is not home that I was missing but those that I loved so dearly.  It was not being homesick it was a moment of grief.
  Home can be anywhere you make it as long as you have love in that home.
Home is a place you rest.
 Home can be in a photo
 Home can be a dresser top filled with trinkets that once belonged to those you loved.
Home can be cooking a food that you remember as a child.
So I now know that I will keep dear to my heart those places that we no longer can visit, cherish the old photos and enjoy those things that are surrounding me each day.  I am home because there is love in our home and memories in my heart.
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