There’s no better place to go then “home.” I don’t mean the home we go to everyday after picking up the kids from school, or leaving work for the day. I mean the home, as in “home for the holidays.” Or, back home to the place where you grew up; where your family is. That’s the key word – Family! I’m talking about the visit to Grandma’s at Christmas where all the cousins and aunts and uncles are. Or the family cottage up north where the whole family goes for a couple of weeks each summer. Home. To family. To your roots. Where blood is thicker then water and it just feels good to hang out with the people you are related to. Even the weird ones.
When my husband Ted was growing up, that ‘home’ belonged to his paternal grandparents. Ted’s dad was in the Air Force and they lived in many places around the country and around the world. Grandma and Grandpa were permanent fixtures on East Royal Forest Street in Columbus, Ohio, and that is where they could always go home to, in between moves. It was their permanent address.
In my case, I didn’t really have a grandparent’s residence to go home to. However, I had many wonderful Christmas memories with my Aunt Martha and Uncle Bill and my four cousins in New Jersey. We would fly in to visit, and my Connecticut cousins usually showed up too. With the three families combined, there was twelve of us cousins! My childhood memories of Christmas’s in New Jersey were always magical, warm, and all about family.
I happened to look up the origin of the song that includes the familiar lyrics: Be it ever so humble there’s no place like home. Written in 1823, the song has remained well-known for over 180 years. On Wikipedia I read that the song was reputedly banned from being played in Union Amy camps during the American Civil War for being too redolent of hearth and home and so likely to incite desertion. I am sure our own military stationed overseas would love the option of running home when homesickness overtakes them!
This afternoon as Ted and I were running a few errands together, we were discussing our plans for the rest of the weekend. “We have church this evening,” I said, “And tomorrow we go to the farm.”
“The farm,” Ted echoed back.
“Yes, to the farm,” I said back to him as I gazed quizzically at him.
“Doesn’t that sound nice?” he asked. “Tomorrow we go to the farm.”
Ted’s cousin and family live on a farm in southern Ohio. There is a big Fall Fest there tomorrow and tons of people will be there including several cousins with their spouses and children, Ted’s mom and dad, as well as a favorite aunt and uncle. Family! Ted was just warming up to the idea of being with so many of the family he loved. For him, tomorrow’s trip to the farm will be like a trip home.
With our daughters grown and moved out (Amanda’s day is coming soon) Ted and I will have this big ‘ole house to ourselves (hurray!). Part of me wants us to move to a smaller place that is easier to take care of and less costly to maintain. But another part of me wants to keep the big house so the kids have a place to come home to. We’ll have to see how that works itself out.
If you’re looking for us tomorrow, we won’t be home.
We’re going to the farm.
1 Chronicles 16:43 Then all the people left, each for their own home, and David returned home to bless his family.