It could be the fact that we lived in Tornado Alley. The storms there were intense and seemed to last all through the night. I'll never forget one particular evening that consisted of dark clouds, and just enough electricity in the air that makes cats crazy and small children giddy. That is, until the tornado siren blared and a giant hail ball came crashing through the dining room window causing my shirtless little sister to freeze in her tracks and scream. Just screeeeeaaammm. Thankfully I had the four year old fortitude to bring her to her senses and remind her that she couldn't run across the yard to the neighbor's cellar with out her shoes or a shirt.
Maybe it was all those times playing in the yard on our second hand swing set while my dad mowed and raked the yard spotless. Afterwards, he would grill on his small tailgate type grill underneath the mesquite tree. I always thought it exciting when he would let the tailgate of his pickup down to use as a table of sorts. My sister and I would come off our swing set and continue our climbing adventures in the bed of the truck.
My parents worked so hard for that modest home. It was always tidy, clean, and trim. Some furniture was new, but most of it had previous owners. It was all still lovely and comfy to me. Twenty five years later, and decades of hard work, I find my parents putting that same care and love into a new home. Completely new. No previous owners. Their very own imagined dream home a very real, true, and blessed reality. I am happy, thrilled, and so proud for them.
I currently view the home as a very beautiful shell with great potential. I am having a hard time receiving it as a home. It is still in a "house" phase to me. I'm sure once the buzz of the builders and the fumes of the painters leave, it will undoubtedly transform into a warm and inviting home. I think once I'm bellied up to my mom's the kitchen bar eating a bowl of cereal and I hear that first official Texas thunder rumble, I'll know that this too is home.
