Temporary Home
February 13, 2020
Temporary Home
Sometimes music just hits me. I love to listen to songs of all kinds. One of my newest favorites was from a movie we watched a little bit ago – “Speechless.” Even though as an analyst I understand that wouldn’t have been accurate for the culture, still, it was perfect for the movie and absolutely perfect for viewing children to understand that they have to stand up for what they believe regardless of their culture.
Today, riding home, I heard one I’ve always loved but haven’t really heard in a while. Carrie Underwood’s “Temporary Home.” But today I couldn’t stop crying through the song because I could see real people in all stages of the song. In my mind I saw three little children I knew (the little boy), my sister before she died (the single mom), and my Daddy (the old man) – only my mind altered the words to say “old man, chair at home, surrounded by people he loves…” and the image was of all of us at the last Christmas when we were all together.
I can’t stop crying when I hear this song now. Even thinking about it.
My family is (fingers crossed, prayers for God’s will regardless if it is ours) in the process of trying to be approved for a new home in a development that comes with a nature park as a backyard and friends we already know and love as neighbors all up and down our future street.
Regardless of whether we get approved, any house we live in is temporary.
See, I moved all over the place as a youth. 19 times in 19 years (no, not every year, longest in one spot was 2 years 9 days). I always found new adventure and opportunities in each new place.
But I wanted my children to have roots.
When we bought our house, I counted out 2 years and 10 days on our calendar and circled it with smiley faces. It meant so much to me to be in one place. God taught me a lot when we faced the loss of our company, our house, our stuff, our income, and what felt like our future – mostly by means out of our control. One bank gambling that we’d have a chunk set aside (which we would have if we hadn’t just had to pay all of it to cover one driver when wrecked because she drove without our permission while upset) meant that they would accept nothing less – we couldn’t get a loan for the amount our house was “underwater,” because so many foreclosures around us (almost every property sold in our area in the last 3 years had been a foreclosure) had dropped our property from being worth $150K to $83K. Even the lawyer said there was nothing we could do.
God taught me to let go.
Let go of my dreams of one place my whole life…
Let go of my trees, roses, things I had tended for 10 years…
Let go of our animal graveyard where we had lovely trees planted over each of the foster animals whose last home we had been…
Let go of my little farm I loved…
Let go of things that we’d collected…
Let go of our repaired table that had been Louis’ parents, the chandelier Louis gave me for the first birthday I had in our house, the big-screen TV Louis had wanted since we got married but we had finally saved and bought for him the past Christmas, the beds that had been my brother’s and were now my children’s, dressers that had been mine and Katy’s and were now Christina and Becky’s, dressers that my Daddy brought for Becca when I was 13 and now were my dresser/mirror, Kimberly’s dresser, and our shoe cabinet, the baby cradle that my Daddy had bought for my Mom when she was pregnant with me – it had rocked every one of my siblings, a few of my children, and was their stuffed animal bed now…
Each felt like a stab to my heart then. Now? I couldn’t care less about stuff. I’m thankful we got to keep Daddy’s surfboard, the girls’ schoolbooks, their legos, and when the auction people came out and took our one vehicle they asked how we got around and Louis told them “the bikes” – so they left the 6 bicycles and the baby bike trailer by writing “rusted and very poor” over the “bicycles” on the list. (Honestly, every one of them except for Louis’ had come off the side of the road and were rusted, repainted, repaired, etc. so likely not worth any real money.)
Temporary.
All of those things are temporary.
The only thing that is permanent is our relationships – love.
Any house we buy will be our temporary home. We will fill it with love whatever size it is. Yes, we’re praying for a spot with at least 5 bedrooms where the children can at least break into 3-2-2 because I’d like a baby room for Thea and Lucas and we want a “guest bedroom/Grandma suite” because we look long-term at something we’ll be buying for 15 to 30 years! The big girls want to come back and stay as they go through college and until they buy their own home after their careers are established (and Mom is totally okay with that!).
Temporary Home.
If Daddy had heard that song, I’m sure we would have discussed how true it is. I’m reminded of him all the time. I want to discuss the issues arising in my professional career – crossroads that I’m not sure if I’m making the logical or the heart decision. I miss his advice! I heard another country song I’ve heard dozens of times about visiting hours in heaven… Oh wow, do I wish I could just talk to my Daddy again!
Someday we all will leave our temporary home. What will be left is our legacy – our love – our heart. Those we have touched. The memories we made. I pray I make the right decisions daily so that I leave as much of my heart, love, and truth as a legacy for those who love me.
Thanks for Reading!
Type at you next time!
~Nancy Tart
