by Fran Mascioli

Created on: May 31, 2008   Last Updated: January 08, 2012

My house is far from a palace according to most people's standards. Ah, but this home has provided me with more comfort and security than I've known in my entire life. I am not ashamed of it, because I worked hard to get it and hard to keep it. I don't see the imperfections and the flaws. I relish the fact that in the hardest times, it's been stability that has lasted through the years. It is my safe harbor.

When I walk in the front door, I see that the threshold needs repair. And then, I remember being carried over that threshold by my husband the day we married. It was one of the happiest days in my life. I remember walking into the garage a few years after our wedding, while my husband was working on a car part with greasy hands. I sat down on a crate and told him we were expecting. He hugged me so tight! He got grease all over my shirt, but it didn't matter. That shirt was easily replaced. I will never replace the warm, fuzzy feeling from that hug in our garage.

One by one, each room has had minor repairs. All the pipes were redone a few years ago. The windows are new.  The ceiling in the hallway was repaired after the roof leaked. The cost of a new roof was so expensive. Both of our daughters were raised under this roof. Their graduation parties from college were held here. 

I grew up in a building with four walls and a ceiling. There was no love there, just terrible arguments and drunken parties. Sometimes the cigarette smoke was so thick you could hardly breathe. I felt no happiness or security in my childhood dwelling. But this home is different. This home holds many happy memories. Now, there have been some incredibly sad moments, also. But as a family, we got through it all, within the security of these sturdy walls.

For years this home saw friends, family, neighbors and children gather inside. Some days my girls had so many friends over that I could not hear myself think.  I loved each and every moment of activity. I always encouraged my girls to come right home after school, and bring their friends over. It cost a small fortune to feed all the kids daily. But, I always knew where my girls were. They were here, with their friends . . . safe. That was priceless.

I love my home sweet home. I have returned from work to an empty house so often lately, that it is almost like an old friend. I walk in and immediately feel relief from the outside world. Sometimes I wonder who knocked on the door while I was gone. Did a neighbor stop by and sit on the porch swing a moment? Will someone stop by tonight to enjoy the moonlight and a sweet tea with me in the backyard? As I lay in the bed, will my home protect me from the elements? Over the years, my home has never disappointed me.

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