N = Nostalgia

The term nostalgia describes a yearning for the past, often in idealized form (compliments of Wikipedia)

Nostalgia - and it's definition here makes, me think of my parents, Jeremy's parents, Jacob's biological parents and of course, Jeremy and I in the future.  Such very different scenarios.

Let's start with my mom.  My mother turned 78 years old this past January.  She lives in a 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom home, with a formal dining room, formal living room, den, and library.  She lives there alone.  She hires someone to mow the grass, clear the snow, and a woman to help with her laundry.  She refuses to make any changes or allow any of her children to help her.  She pays upward of $500/month to heat this home - and only three rooms of it.  She says she'd like to share the holidays with us kids, in the home where we grew up.  Yet she won't take the steps to do so.  Besides,  I don't recall the holidays at home to be so fantastic as I'd like to repeat them...ever.  In her mind though, it'd be a regular Norman Rockwell print.  It strikes me odd as well, she has no furniture, she doesn't have a working oven.  And if she did, her house is so full of old newspapers, clothing, shoes, dust and clutter that one could barely make it through.  I don't understand her choice to live like this nor her ideal of a family reunion and it's sad what age has done to her mind and her ideals have done to her relationships with her children.

Jacob's biological grandparents - They're both retired and we've watched them move around a little bit in the last couple years since we've known them.  I have to say, I am most proud of them and the decision they have made.  They have 3 children though and are not overly close either.  They know when they time comes, they can only count on each other.   This past year, they gave up the notion of the house, where everyone will get together, the lawn mowing, the bills, the maintenance and the responsibility to move into a senior housing community.  Sure, they still pay rent but, zero upkeep, their utility costs are lower, and they love it!  Their complex has a laundromat inside, plowed parking, a 2nd bedroom for the grand babies, and their apartment has a full kitchen.  They have 'community' activities, assistance for groceries if needed.  It's great to see them fitting in and making friends without being tied down to a home.  And most importantly, God forbid something should happen to her, he won't have to move and can take care of himself there.

Our goal, Jeremy and I, is to be out of our monster house when Jacob graduates high school.  I want to sell it all and move to a condo.  Think about it - Jeremy and I will be about ready to retire - dear Lord, I'll have 27 years in at my job by then!  I don't want to be tied to home repair and yard work.  I want to be able to go and take trips and someday visit grand babies but, the last thing I want is to be tied to/drained by a house.  I want freedom!

I love my home.  It's our first home together - Jeremy and I bought it before we were married.  That said, it's the home we came to after we were married.  Every square inch of it is marked with my sweat, my tears, and in some places, my blood.  We celebrated our first Christmas here.  It's the place we brought our child home to, where we raised him, and Kelsey.  Where they had their First Christmas, First Birthdays, and where I sprained my ankle, where Jacob's height is measured on the door jamb.  Our home where the cement out front has Murray's footprints, and the back door that Jack chewed.  These walls hold our arguments, our laughs, our smiles and our tears.  I'll be sad to leave the home where we raised our family and our memories were created.

I would be more sad to die in my monster house when I'm 80 years old and to have hoarded every item I've ever owned.  I will be more sad to know that I didn't enjoy my life, Jacob's life, or my grand babies as much as I could have because I kept pouring my time, my energy, and my money into this old house when I could have been making more memories all along.  I'll be sad to have lost a relationship with my family because I was too bitter and had to hang onto a flicker of a hope to one day have my family together.  It's not the house holding the family, or the memories together, it's the people in the house that make the family and keep the memories alive.