Sunday will mark 10 years that we have spent Valentine’s Day together. Each year, we have celebrated a little differently, including fancy dinners and even a vacation.
One of my favorite Valentine’s Day memories was the first year in our house. We moved into our home on February 7 and a week later, we still had boxes to unpack and empty rooms to fill. Low on money, we decided to pick up Italian takeout and stay in for the holiday. We didn’t have a dining room table or chairs, so we ate our dinner on the living room floor.
It was one of my favorite Valentine’s Days.
We didn’t have a lot, but we had our new house and we had each other. It was perfect.
Jump forward four years, and our house is now full of many things. We have furniture in our rooms and pictures on the walls. Our cupboards are full of dishes and our closets are stuffed to the brim. We have cleaned, remodeled, refurbished and redone. We have put a lot of time and effort into making our home feel like home.
I am realizing, though, that it is not the house that makes the home. It isn’t the stuff inside that makes us feel grounded. It’s our family and friends who visit, sharing laughs and stories over grilled burgers and beers. It’s our dog, Calvin, who greets us with an excitement like he hasn’t seen us in years. It’s our neighbors, who we trust and know are always looking over our house.
I do not know how long we will live here. Perhaps we will move into a bigger house one day that has more closet space than we can imagine. Maybe we will stay here in this house until we are old and gray.
Wherever we go or wherever we live, we will always have each other. You are my home.