The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.
I’ve been working on making photo albums lately (it’s a very long time coming) and it’s made me a bit reflective. I didn’t realize how long I’ve been with most of my friends nor how well they know me. For a long time I felt as though I felt close to others but no one felt close to me. It’s only been in opening myself up to them lately that I’ve learned that was my doing.
People open up to me. Random strangers on elevators will confess their sins to me before I have time to choose a floor. I’ve never really understood the value of returning the favor until now.
I’ve been having dinners with friends lately and it’s really nice. That would have sent me running away screaming in the past though. The level of intimacy required to just sit around someone’s house and chat about nothing over dinner when the only thing connecting you is the fact that you all like to be around each other. I like to think it’s a testament to how far I’ve come.
I want to live a life where people just come and go in my home. Where people stop by because they love me and just want to see me for a few minutes. I want to be the family whose kids friends walk in after school and ask what’s for dinner. (Then I have to be like, “Get your feet off the table Michael!” I’m assuming my children will have a friend named Michael and he will be so comfortable in my house he will put his feet on my dinner table).
I think I got a little bit closer to that the other day. I cooked dinner and baked cupcakes for some friends and everyone just sat in the kitchen and chatted while dinner cooked, then proceeded to talk for about and hour and a half after dinner (though not exactly family friendly conversation). It turns out you learn the most about other people over dinner! The thing that really made me happy though?One of my friends rang the doorbell but then walked right in.
