Home isn't where you hang your hat. It's where you hang your heart. The welcome mat is laid out no matter how long I've been away. No signs at the door to say, "closed" or "no vacancy" because this home, my home is always open. A place where memories are born and not just made.
We can drop our masks and be the human, beautiful mess we are and we are still loved.
Pajamas, unkempt hair, forgiveness, laughter, coffee rings and tear stains adorn the rooms and home feels real and like a warm, cozy bed I can't help but jump into. I cling hard to this comfort and to this familiar.
Home isn't four walls full of perfection, but of imperfect people.
These people, they are my home.
The picture of your kids coloring on your hubby's back made me laugh. Awesome. I also have that same bowl you were using cooking with your boys. Great post (way more positive than mine today) :) Happy weekend!!
ReplyDeleteI couldn't believe my hubby allowed the boys to color on his back...love it. I love that bowl!
DeleteDionne--this is so precious! Thanks for sharing. And this line, "Home isn't four walls full of perfection, but of imperfect people"
ReplyDeleteis brilliant.
Jody, you are too kind. Thank you...I am still smiling about the humming bird who sometimes scares you! Seriously, I wish we could be in he same town.
Delete"A place where memories are born and not just made....Home isn't four walls full of perfection, but of imperfect people"--LOVE this! Thank you for sharing such beautiful thoughts and home, what a blessing to read through and so very true! Loved seeing your pics too! =)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your kind comment!
DeleteDionne, I loved the line mentioned above, too. We are SO imperfect people. But there is love. Thanks for stopping by!
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