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New Traditions

After my first trip to visit my cousin and her husband in Florida last year, I began a new tradition. On my flight back to Chicago, I grabbed a pen and started scribbling thoughts on the back of an old receipt I found in my purse. The finished product was a bulleted list of things I wanted to remember about the trip. Things that touched me while I was there, funny moments between my cousin and I, and a few ideas for our next trip.

The whole process took about 15 minutes and it was done more out of boredom than anything else. But I actually enjoyed the activity so I decided to make a habit of it every time I returned home from a trip. I think it’s important to take a moment to pause every once in a while and give your head a chance to catch up to your heart.

To me travelling (even if it’s just to Florida) is like running. It’s exhilarating yet exhausting and often you’re so caught up in the motions that you forget to feel. So this simple activity gave me a chance to catch my breath and put it all into perspective. 

I paid my cousin a visit again this year and we had a blast like we always do. We ate great food, relaxed by pool and enjoyed unexpectedly warm weather. We took a day trip to Siesta Key, which is apparently the best beach in the country. I was a bit skeptical because beaches are my thing and I’ve seen a lot of spectacular ones.

But we reached the beach just before sunset and I was blown away. The sand was as soft and white as flour. Even as the sky darkened, the teal hues of the ocean stood out. The water was still warm and inviting. I was in my element with the sticky, salty air and I loved every second of it. 

We spent such a brief time there but it was enough for me. The ocean calmed my spirit and made me feel so at peace yet so energized. That’s why I love the ocean and the beach, because it’s the only place in the world that never feels wrong. 

So on my flight home, I jotted these thoughts on the back of my flight info (picture above). It turned more into a list of things I was thankful for. Here are a few I wrote down:

• Sunsets - the only proof I need that God exists.
• Cousins - people who get you, know where you come from. Discovering connections we never knew we had. People being able to tell we are family by our mannerisms and thought process.
• Belonging - never feeling more at home, more comfortable than when I am at the beach
• Life! - Thankful for life. The good, bad, frustrating, confusing. Beautiful moments are made more beautiful because of the negativity we experience, so be thankful for it all!
• Home - A home, family, and friends to return to at the end of it all. 

Nothing earth shattering about the list, but writing it all out at the end of the trip filled me with so much gratitude for all that I have. It was the perfect way to close out the long weekend and store up strength and motivation for the days ahead.

Home

I’ve been thinking a lot about homes lately. My family will soon be moving from our home of six years so there has been a great deal of discussion about pricing, equity and value. In just a few short months, a realtor was chosen, the house was staged and the contract was signed. 

Like most moves, chaos and disarray are inevitable. And I can already feel the mix of bittersweet energy and nervousness filling each room as we sift through our belongings and prepare to journey on to the next phase of our lives.

But none of this is unique. Anyone who has moved can tell you these are typical factors when a family shifts houses. My own family has moved several times so we should be used to it. Logistically we are, but based purely on emotion something is different this time.

The difference is that this house has forced me to question the age-old saying I once leaned on for comfort, “Home is where the heart is.” The saying implies that the house, the physical structure, is ultimately disposable and that a true home cannot be bound by a particular space or location. But what if over time the distinction between “house” and “home” dissolves? What happens when your physical home comes to represent your heart in ways no other person, place, or transient moment can?

When my family moved out of our childhood home, we never looked back as we drove away from the place our earliest memories were formed. My three younger siblings and I were eager to experience a whole new set of adventures as young adults in our newly purchased home. We did not have the foresight to entertain too much nostalgia or reflection.

Six years later as we prepare to move again, our excitement is shaded by the awareness that the family dynamics we created and diligently sustained here will never be the same again. We have changed. We are older now, in our late teens and twenties, following our dreams and spreading out across the country as we should. But the move is poignant because this house is the last place we will be together as one unit. 

In this house two young parents nurtured four distinct personality types with equal parts acceptance, discipline, and love. This is the home where my siblings and I battled for our identities and for our place in the family structure. Every inch of our house felt it, from slammed doors, to the decorative marks we left on the walls. Our most impactful memories and life experiences were created here.

This is the home my two brothers grew into, then quickly out of, my dad’s shirts and shoes. It holds the bathroom my sister and I, separated by six years and distinct temperaments, helped each other get dressed, made up after arguments, and became best friends.

It’s where the stubborn divide between mother and daughter was erased. As my mom and I cooked, cleaned and shared the days’ stresses and victories, we developed a unique relationship that few are blessed with. The kitchen was usually where we came together to nurture that bond; no longer because we had to but because we genuinely cherished the time we spent in each other’s company.

Just as we shaped this house with our long history of home improvements, it has also shaped and transformed us. My dad took on just about every project with my brothers as his assistants. Together they laid tile, installed hardwood floors, painted bathrooms and so much more. However the influence of those father-son projects wasn’t apparent until my dad moved to Seattle to take a new job.

In my dad’s absence, my brothers’ unsettled relationship turned a corner and assumed a pleasant pace, centered on the common goal of looking after the household. Somewhere between being caught up in my own life and my dad moving away, my brothers had grown into hard working, mature men who could be depended on in this toughest of circumstances. 

If you’re picturing a Brady Bunch household, you’re getting the wrong idea. Our family has been through more than I am willing to share. There were so many times we hated each other and treated each other poorly and unfairly. But those moments were always overcome by forgiveness and the deep confidence that we would overcome our conflicts, no matter how justified we felt to hold on to the grudge.

It’s also important to note that our house is not extraordinary. It is a simple suburban home that we happened to fall in love with because we saw its potential. But even though we are emotionally perplexed by the move and what it will mean for the family, we know our time here was a godsend and we couldn’t ask for more.

My wish for other families is to cherish the moments you have with each other while everyone is together and things seem ideal. Doing so will make future transitions, namely the difficult ones, so much easier to bear. Allow your family to teach you about yourself and don’t be afraid to change for them. Most importantly love your family unconditionally and express that love whichever way comes naturally to you. 

As for my family, soon we will have another home. We will make new memories there and discover new dynamics to our relationships as adults. Life may present us with fresh challenges and difficulties down the road, but I know the ties we created in this home will endure. Just as this house’s structure has stood strong and unwavering in the midst of storms and changes in season, so too will our love for each other remain constant and firm. That is the greatest gift this home has given me.

Love v. Attachment

“Many people still confuse ‘attachment’ with ‘love’. Attachments are about fear and dependency, and have more to do with love of self than love of another. Love without attachment is the purest love because it isn’t about what others can give you, because you’re empty. It’s about what you can give others—because you’re already full.” - Yasmin Mogahed