My sweet Sunshine started saying the word “home” this week. It’s adorable and comes out sounding more like “ooohhm.” Every time she’s done it, I’ve felt my heart squeeze in my chest. Home.
I grew up living in lots of places: California, Idaho (four different times, two different towns), Indiana, Ohio, Tennessee every summer, Oregon (two different times, two different towns), and now Massachusetts. Most of those houses were parsonages, meaning they belonged to the churches where my dad was preaching and we were just temporary inhabitants. If there’s one thing moving so much has taught me, it’s that sometimes home must be a fluid concept.
I’ve met lots of people who feel a sense of ownership over the places where they grew up or have lived for a very long time: people who have a deep sense of pride in their roots and not just living somewhere, but being part of the fabric that makes the place a place at all. For someone like me, though, without those particular roots, I have no sense of the places I’ve loved belonging to me, more I feel like a part of me belongs to them: little pieces of my heart, scattered across the country. I can’t get them back (and wouldn’t if I could) but I can visit them and I feel whole in different ways each time I do.
I think that’s why her sweet, tiny voice saying “oooohhhm” squeezes my heart in that achingly, lovely way. She is not quite two, but for her, this old, yellow farmhouse by the woods in a tiny town in Massachusetts is warmth, safety, and fun. She is surrounded by love here, she can be herself without reserve, and wherever else we go, whatever adventures we go on, this is the touchstone we return to-to rest and refuel.
This little farm already has a piece of her heart. Maybe she’ll stay here her whole life through and be woven into the fabric of the town. Or maybe one day her heart will break and she’ll leave a bit here as she moves on–learning to love another place . . . and another. Only time will tell.
For now, I am filled with gratitude for this beautiful town, this incredible house, and the fairy tale landscape that altogether make my sweet Sunshine’s first ooohhm.