On Making a Home

This past weekend, we were able to have friends and family over to experience our new place, but for me the biggest emotion was pride. Pride for my wife who endlessly worked to make our place a true home. Her touch is everywhere, including giving me a writing space that I said I didn’t want and now can’t imagine my mornings without it. A place for me to gaze, to have the sun bathe me in its light (hopefully giving me inspiration, and to wonder how well she knows me and supports me in her quiet ways.

She takes my writing as a part of me even though I don’t share as much as I could with her verbally, but she knew just as she knew what our house needed. Each area turned into something special, and I admit I feel guilty as my contribution was minimal due to work, my shoulder and just not being around during the times she could have used the support. But not only did she not complain, she took joy in molding this into our home. Countless trips, so many touches that still astonish me as I could have never imagined them. I am still in awe as to how much joy she has already created and we haven’t even been here a month.

Joy becomes easier when shared with others and this weekend we shared with the ones we care about, and I can’t wait to have others over, to have them appreciate as she has done. I make no claims except that my wife made us a home, and for that I am truly grateful, and it makes me excited for 2022. Almost three months in, and it looks bright, hopeful, and I am eager to see what we create.

Thank you Babu!

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