a home.

going to a funeral is a humbling experience. and it puts life into perspective like nobody's business.
this life is so short. it can change so fast.
colleen was a beautiful soul. a jewel, really. and her eyes twinkled with her smile. which was ever-present. i admire that.
therefore, after today, i have come to some important conclusions.

someday:

i'd like to live in a home with lace curtains. a home with a big front porch and a soft porch swing just waiting to be rocked in on a warm summer day, glass of lemonade in hand. fresh flowers ever-present throughout the year on the inside. and a flower garden outside in the yard. oh, yes. i'd like a yard for my kiddies to play in as well. preferably one large enough to accommodate picnics and other gatherings. in the spring and summer time, the fresh flowers on my table will come from my own garden. this home will have lots of windows, in order for the natural sunlight to flood its way through every room and join the flood of love that will be present in every room.  someday, i want to learn how to always have advice for anything my kiddies ask me about or are concerned with. i want to know just what to say that makes them feel just right. whether they're three years old, or forty-three.  i want to make bread. not just for the fact that freshly homemade bread is more nutritious, but also because then my children can learn this life skill. we'll save money in making our own bread, as well. and i learned today how the making of bread is full of life lessons to be learned.  in this home, sunbeam naps will be encouraged, especially on summer sunday afternoons. the windows and doors will be open often, with screens where necessary. and the breeze will flow freely on warm summer days that aren't too hot. i'd like a nice and big family room, for that is what it will be: a room for family. and at some level we're all family, aren't we? whether or not it's a link by blood or marriage, we are eternal. i want it to be big enough to accommodate all who enter, but small enough to still feel charming and cozy. comfortable, not intimidating. and bookshelves! oh, the bookshelves we'll have. i wouldn't be my parents' child without them. they'll be full of books and easily accessible. following colleen's advice: read good books. read a lot of them. my kiddies will learn from a young age the wonders and importance of reading. i'd also like a piano. someday, at least. my kiddies will all learn a musical instrument. it's good for the brain. and music will be plentiful in this home. a place of perpetual learning. i'd also like it to be a place of color. not a monotonous white. i think a little bit of color is just what life needs sometimes, and if in my home is the only place to find the 'colors of life,' then so be it.

and while all these desires may seem materialistic, they're not meant to be.  the reason for my desires is this: i want family time spent together in this home to be not just encouraged, but desired.  i want all who enter this place to feel loved and cared for--to feel home, regardless of whether or not they are immediate family. i want it to be a place of love and nurturing, a place of peace. i want my family to want to spend time together. to want to invite friends and neighbors. to want to be there, regardless of what they're doing. between the big and plentiful windows and a yard, i'd like time devoted to be still. maybe even a weekly family tradition. 'be still, and know that i am god.' time set aside for cloud watching, star gazing, and pondering the mysteries of the universe. time set aside to just plain be. to appreciate the beauties of the universe. and most of all, to soak up the time we have together. for it will no doubt pass too quickly and seem too short. good thing we ultimately have eternity at our disposal. we'll need every second, for forever will not be long enough. it never is with the people you truly love.

photos here, here, here, and here.

"Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule."

Frederick W. Robertson