What Makes a House a Home

by Margaret Bishop

For many years, I thought I knew what made a house a home. It’s why my husband and I agonized over decisions like whether to install granite or quartz countertops in our kitchen. It’s why we would get samples of paint from our local Sherwin-Williams and paint small sections of the wall in order to choose the “perfect” color. I imagined that if only I could find the right piece of artwork or arrange my mantlepiece just so, our house would be transformed. I’ve looked at enough designer magazines and Pinterest boards to know that every home should have a certain aesthetic in order to “feel” like home. I guess I believed that what made a house a home was having a clear sense of personal style – an area of life in which I have decidedly little interest or skill. Because of that lacking, I always felt that our house was just one project or purchase away from reaching that imaginary elusive status of being “done.” Side note – we have lived in our house for over 22 years!

But as I enter my empty nest era and begin to consider options like downsizing, moving to a new town, etc., I find that I have very little hesitation about leaving behind the carefully chosen kitchen countertops or paint colors. It’s the doorframe in the laundry room with years of height measurements spanning 20 years of childhood that give me pause. It’s the trees we planted in honor of our children’s births as gifts from a thoughtful relative. It’s the mismatched pane of glass on the back door that was mysteriously shattered when my daughter and her middle school friends were home “studying” together. It’s the backyard basketball court where endless games of HORSE were played, tears were shed in heated sibling rivalry, and dunks were attempted on a regular basis by a rotating cast of adolescent boys. Oh, the joys of having a basketball goal that can be lowered and raised!

The décor of a house sets the stage for a life well-lived, but the people in the house give the life the meaning. The older I get, the more I realize that home isn’t an object but rather it’s a feeling, a sense of connection and belonging between people who love and care for one another. Paint colors and artwork may become treasured because of the precious memories associated with them but really, it’s all about the people and the moments that were shared in their presence.  A house may be tastefully curated, designed with only the best appliances and fixtures that money can buy and yet never evoke that mystical sense of “home” that makes a heart yearn to return again and again. Home feels safe. Home feels warm. A house is just a house until people make it a home.

I don’t know what path my life will take in the years ahead. Maybe our house will be sold to new owners who will make new memories of their own. Our house will become their home, and a new house will become ours. Maybe we will remain and entertain grandchildren with games of HORSE and volleyball. A few new names might even be added to the doorframe over the coming years. The future is unpredictable, unknown and full of possibilities. Whatever it may bring, I can attest that the three little handprints hurriedly pressed down into drying cement in the backyard are of far greater worth to me now than the kitchen countertops ever will be. One choice was made spur of the moment with little thought, the other choice was agonized over, carefully chosen after viewing endless samples, but we all know which choice evokes a sense of home in my heart. People are what make a house a home, and thankfully, treasured memories with the people you love don’t need four walls to hold them. You can do that with or without your house. Home is in your heart.