Home for the Holidays
It’s hard to really define home these days. I love our city townhouse and breathe easier when I step inside and smell the muskiness of hardwood floors and the faint scent of last night’s cinnamon candle. But I also feel a deep sense of comfort in Mom and Poppi’s house in Sugar Hill, as life doesn’t get much more comfy than the feel of family around a table of Italian food.
My parents’ farm in Illinois will always be a significant way that I define home, as it holds the memories of 18 years of growth and invention; as we all get older and talks of who might take over the farm become a norm of conversation, my heart panics. I can’t imagine being unable to “come home” every winter and summer. The patchwork quilt that hangs over the upstairs banister kept me warm on the wooden loveseat when I was home sick from school. The horrific orange carpet of the stairs was our laundry shoot as we rode the piles of laundry down the stairs and onto the kitchen linoleum. The “hamshack” is my dad’s version of a man cave, and is not only where he harbored all his radio shenanigans, but also the place where he taught me about the computer and I got my first email address sauerkraut1980@aol.com. And don’t get me started on the front porch, the haymow in the upper barn, the three-wheeler in the pasture and the hand painted swing set. Sigh. The point is, this is really what home looks and feels like and this year, for the first time in our ten years of marriage, we’re going home for the holidays.
Nicholas works retail, so Christmas is usually a no-go. But somehow, we were able to make it happen this year, as we booked tickets last night for the weekend after Christmas. This way, we get the best of all worlds….we get to have a Christmas Eve slumber party with the Italian family here, and spend the following weekend on the farm for a (hopefully) white Christmas.
I know that home will always be wherever Nicholas and I are together, but it feels good to look forward to going back to my roots, especially at the holidays.