I had the privilege to grow up in the same house for 23 years. For the past 5 years or so I have also lived in Richmond, splitting my time between Warrenton, where I grew up, and this amazing city that I now also consider home.
This past January my family moved to a new house, which is still in Warrenton, but just a lot bigger. I don’t really feel as if this new place is “home”, perhaps because I’ve really only been there for short amounts of time, a night here, a weekend there.
The house is still in a transition of sorts. Some rooms are more furnished than others, the living room, the kitchen. However some places in the house are still empty, with a piece of furniture here and there. There are still traces of the previous family, curtains left behind, their old table, picture hooks all over the place.
Some of these things left behind give you an idea of the way a room was used before. For example, my room has striped curtains, and a joker hat light switch plate. A circus like theme perfect for a young child’s room.
Slowly these remnants of before are being replaced with my family’s own mark. Slowly this house is becoming home.