Just bricks and mortar

It wasn’t something that I had considered before – was it the place or the people who made a house a home?  I’ve moved only three times in my life – once as a new bride and twice with my family always together our possessions and ourselves moving forward.

But this week myself and my family have helped to move my mother-in-law into her new bungalow.  She has lived in the same house for 37 years and the memories she has helped to make in it are many.

When the family moved there in 1973 they had just lost a daughter and a sister so the first few years must have been difficult.  But with 7 remaining children eventually happier times came – Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries; weddings and in time 16 grandchildren and several great-grandchildren came along.

As we cleaned and packed I thought of the many times I had been welcomed into that house – Saturday afternoons spent with my boyfriend, Grandstand and two small nephews; the winter of 1990 when snow brought down the power lines and we sat by candle light playing board games; our 3 children as new borns and the harvesting of crops from the allotment during the summer months.

I asked my husband how he felt about leaving the house, he has not lived there for 19 years so his attachment was not what it once was but, he suggested, was it not the people who had made the house a home; their love that made it so warm and friendly, without them it was just bricks and mortar.

When Saturday came and the door was closed for the last time the energy of the family moved from the old to the new – the fun and laughter travelled with us, the family together helping to make the bungalow a home.

It was a little strange to leave my mother-in-law that evening but this was just the place itself, the new not the familiar.  The stories will still be told, the memories will still be there, the journey had started again.



30 August, 2010. Family History.

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