This post was most recently updated on September 10th, 2018
What makes a house a home? This is a question I ponder quite a bit. Admittedly, I think about it most frequently when I’m feeling frustrated with our tiny, old house. But I want to share with you my thoughts on the subject, because I think the distinction is important.
House vs. Home: Words to Consider
As defined in the dictionary, a house is a “building for human habitation.” Whereas a home is “the place where one lives permanently.”
On the surface, they seem the same, right? But if you’re like me, you don’t like to use any old word when you can be exact. And here, you can see how each word gives off a different vibe. Each one evokes a decidedly dissimilar feeling.
I mean, sure, you can live in a house – it is, after all fit for “human habitation.” But maybe you’d rather feel like you belong somewhere … like a home, for instance. Maybe you’re looking for place where you live rather than simply inhabit.
I live in the house built by my grandparents back in 1955. It’s a very small ranch-style house with a main level and an unfinished basement. While we are not allowed to make any permanent changes to the house – anything that might affect the property value like adding on or remodeling – we were able to partition the basement into some extra rooms and re-purpose the sort-of-finished back porch into more living space.
So – modern and luxurious it is not. It’s marginally functional at best. Outdated, hopelessly underlit, frustratingly small, drafty, energy inefficient, a trial to keep clean … you get the idea.
But here’s the interesting thing …
Despite all the things we complain about in this tiny little house – we’re actually pretty comfortable. Most of the kids have their own space and we’ve learned how to share the one bathroom fairly well. I’ve learned to get creative with the limited storage space available (thank you, Pinterest!) And unless the 3 year old has spread ALL his LEGOS and ALL his Rescue Bots and ALL his beep beeps ALL. OVER. THE. HOUSE. … the place stays reasonably tidy.
And …
Everyone in our family says they find our house so comfortable. The kids get mad at me when I talk about moving – they love it here and don’t want to leave. It doesn’t feel like a rental house or someplace where we just park our shoes. It really, truly feels like a home. I’ve heard the same thing from other visitors — “Your house is so warm and inviting.” “I always feel like I could just lay down and take a nap in your house, it’s so relaxing.” “You have such a cozy, welcoming home.” We even have one relative who shall remain nameless (Grandpa) who actually does fall asleep and take a nap every single time he visits. So we must be doing something right, to make this house – with all its many, many flaws – feel like a home.
But what is it? What turns a building for human habitation into a place where you want to live?
I have a theory … want to hear it? Good, ’cause here it is. 🙂
My theory is that maybe it’s not how well-appointed the house, but how well-lived in it is that makes that somewhat elusive and magical transformation possible. Our house is a home because we live here. We love here. We laugh here. We cry and fight and make up and grow and learn – individually and as a family – here. Could it be that those day to day acts of simply being a family make all the difference? I think so.
I do also think the way a house is put together – the decor, paint color, furniture, the little touches – help create a home. When I see an ultra-modern glass and chrome decorated dwelling on a television design show, it seems cold and fairly uninviting, which makes me automatically think the people who live there might be cold and uninviting as well. That may be totally unfair, and untrue, but my point is that for most of us, our home is a reflection of us. Right?
I like to think of myself as a warm, welcoming person. And I hope my home is a reflection of that. I hope that every person who spends time here feels like they are in more than just an inhabited building. I hope they notice all the little details – the collection of wine corks in my kitchen, marked with the dates of special occasions; the hand-lettered chalkboard in the dining room; the stained glass iris my dad made me when I moved into my very first house – and I hope it makes them feel like they are in a home. Even if it doesn’t have a built-in dishwasher.
The oft-quoted saying, “bloom where you are planted,” is sometimes meant as a consolation to those who are not, well, where they want to be. An encouragement to take heart, have faith and do the best you can with what you have. I find great comfort in this. No, my house is not what I wish for in a ‘forever home’. But I have worked to make it a warm, safe, refuge for my family. With paint and fabric, art and function; through traditions and love, laughter and tears – I think that is what makes a house a home.
Love & Blessings,
That Farm Mama
