Home is where we are

Seven years ago today, we packed up our car and moved to Vermont. It was snowing when we arrived to sign the papers and get the keys. The movers wouldn't arrive until the next day, so the house was empty. It was dark by the time we got to the house, and we turned on all the lights and walked from empty room to empty room, imagining filling each one with our things. Our life. All we had was a futon on the floor with sleeping bags and one of those tiny TVs that has a VCR built in. I think we watched Shrek with our then 4-year-old cuddled between us, the cat at our feet. Late that night, in the quiet, sleepy breathing of my family, I listened to the new night sounds of this house that felt so far from home. And I wondered, as I always wonder whenever we make a big change, "Did we do the right thing?"

Today, I'm sitting in front of the fire, two cats by my side, gently purring and picking at the throw blanket to make a bed. The rooms are full of our things. Our life. Filled with memories made with friends and family. Love. Heartbreak. Joy. Worry. Celebration. But most important, love. And I realize as long as we have that, it will always be the right thing.

Happy anniversary, house Home.