Home is where the mom is?

Home to me... has always been where my mom lives. Most of my life in Tulsa and the last 4 in Arizona. Although, the last couple of years i have begun to believe that statement less and less.

My mom has a nack with making a house a home. She is always moving around her antique and hand picked furniture so that it fits just right. The pieces she has inherited all have a story and all are intricate and beautiful. She mixes new with old nicely. Has an eye for good taste. I have always loved the way my mom decorates and adds nice little touches here and there. The precious heart and hand triple milled soap in the guest room. Bath robes for each of us in the guest room. All 3 of our high school graduation photos beside her favorite toddler photo, framed, all in a row in the guest room. She kept 3 of our childhood loves...collectibles. My older sister's was 4 bunch of her toe shoes all autographed and hung from the 4 poster guest bed. My younger sisters blankie and bear, the beloved. All torn and barely there in a shadow boxed displayed on the wall. And for me...my christening dress with tiny shoes, framed, in a shadow box. The linens on the bed are all hand chosen, each unique, antique, shabby chic, precious and perfectly made like my mom makes a bed. I wish i could steal that bed in the guest room. It is more fabulous than any bed i ever had in her home. The dresser and side tables were passed down for 3 generations...my mom has had them re-finished three times. The third time my mom and refinished them together. A mother/daughter project. I needed something to keep my mind off of my recent breakup-fiance. I worked long hours in the garage sanding, painting, mixing, matching, coats over and over. They turned out absolutely to die for. They could have sold for thousands. Every house my mom has she makes it home, our home...a place we look forward coming home to. Welcome anytime. Through the years i have always looked forward to going home. I have rarely gone more than 4 months without visiting home. I always have felt a need to recharge at some point. To touch home base and get that welcome home, sweet home feeling. It is something i need. I love my moms home and have always felt it my home. Now...California is home!

Calling a place a home takes a lot. Its not just your place of residence. Its not just your apartment or home or neighorhood you live in. It takes a lot to call a place a home. Maybe even years. I have always known that California would be my home from the instant i fell in love with it 2 years ago. It didn't take long to feel like California was my home but over the 2 years i have lived here i feel it more and more...