Always Come Home

I saw someone post on Facebook the other day about decorating your home with objects that have meaning to you. That got me thinking about what we have filled our home with.

I have always like the idea of antiques and older things that tell a story. The house I grew up in was an old farm house, completely remodeled by my dad. He worked so hard to turn that house into something pretty spectacular.

I grew up in Auburn, NE, out in the middle of the country. I absolutely love where I grew up. There was nothing but cornfields, hills, and trees for miles. My sister and I used to go exploring in the “woods.” We always came home with treasures. Old bottles, vintage cans, and old tools. We were stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with just each other, there wasn’t much else to do.

The house we lived in was part of an old run-down farm. Still to this day I remember that barn vividly. I’m sure there were mice and other friendly creatures in there when we would go exploring, but nothing major ever happen to us. Sadly, a new farmer came in and tore down that barn. It looks so different now. Thank heavens for memories.

When my dad remodeled the house, he used all the original wood for the base boards, doors, and all the original build in cabinets. You guys, this house is seriously something. It has so many secret hiding places and so much character you would scream.

My mom decorated the house with the cool treasures my sister and I would find. It was such a warm and inviting home. I always felt so blessed to live in that house. My dad should be so proud of the work he has done.

Now that my parents are divorced (have been for almost 10 years) the house feels different. I still have all the memories and will never forget what it was like to grow up there.

I have always tried to make our home feel like home. I want everyone to feel invited and have that warm feeling when they walk in. I made sure that when we moved into this house, to keep that homey feeling.

The ladder by our TV is the one my dad used to remodel his old farm house. You guys, it has measurements and writing all over it, in my dad’s handwriting. I get all choked up just typing that. Someday, my girls will understand how meaningful that ladder is.

The little quilt with hearts on it, hanging on the ladder, is one my mom made for me when I was born. I didn’t know it existed until we moved into this house. She had it tucked away for almost 30 years!

In my garage, I have a tool box full of my dad’s tools. I don’t use most of them, but it’s just the fact that they are my dad’s that I will hold onto them. Back when I was in high school, my dad made me help him with the remodeling. I hated every minute of it at the time, but now I’m so grateful for those many hours with just him. He taught me so much and I’ll cherish that time always.

Well, now that I have tears running down my face, feeling all mushy gushy— I hope that you all find some inspiration to keep those sentimental items close by. They may be just objects, but they tell a story.