When you “buy”… it’s called a “home”. When you sell… it’s called a “house”. The words, and all they imply, are different. How do you describe “home” … in a couple of words… or a sentence or two ?
Because I sell houses, and help people find homes … I see first hand what it means – to the people moving in… and to those moving out. Home… as defined by buyers … and by sellers:
“Home? The best way I can describe it: It’s where I can relax and unwind … in underwear!”
“My life is stressful and hectic. I’m constantly on deadline. When I close the door behind me and come ‘home’, no matter how bad the day was – or is – curling up on the couch … dog at our feet, music or the TV on, I can make it through anything. It’s where I’m accepted for everything I am… and for what I am not. ”
“Home is where tail wags the minute I walk in the door.”
“It’s my mom’s cooking. That’s what home is for me. It’s the smell of sauces and pastas, and of my favorite cookies, our crazy wet dog and the laundry.”
“A beer on the patio! And the bar-b-que smokin’ “.
“What’s home? I guess it’s the memories I’ll take with me, no matter where I end up going. Memories like building three-dimentional cookies (that melted flat) … learning how make pie crust from my Nana (when I was four years old). It’s the smell of coffee that Papa brewed every morning at 5am and the owl hooting in the trees outside. It’s my beagle, sleeping under the covers in my bed … smelling faintly of the skunk she chased … and my mom’s smile as she pretended she didn’t know the dog was under my covers when she tucked me in at night.”
“Home… It’s where I could feel sad, and safe, when my heart was broken. ”
“My kid, singing out of tune, unabashedly, with friends … and the smiles that brought out in all of us.”
“Soccer games in the backyard, and screaming at the top of our lungs at missed goals.”
“Home – A BIG responsibility and commitment – It’s a huge investment with what we’re hoping are huge gains”
“Anywhere we vacationed, whatever we were doing, as long as we were together.”
“It’s where I grew up… mom’s cooking. The pantry and the freezer and popsicles… Traditions. Holidays.”
“Where I get to decide what goes where: The paint colors … art… furniture.”
“It’s where conversations are inevitably interrupted… cause that’s MY family.”
It’s where I could tease my sister, and get in trouble… and know that my parents loved me… anyway.
“Home is the place I could ALWAYS go back to when the rest of my world crumbled in.”
“My mom gave me her old recipe book. I’d stained and splattered it growing up, and learning to cook … It has all my favorite memories of ‘home’ in it… with her handwritten notes about my favorite dishes (and my dad’s… and my grandma’s and aunt’s recipes in there too)… Those are the memories of ‘home’ that I keep.”
“It’s where two cultures merge (mine and my husband’s) … It’s my mom’s soft spaghetti and meat balls… and her lasagna with tomato sauce and ricotta – and it’s his mom’s home made “al dente ” pasta with bechamel sauce. ”
“Home is where my mom taught my closest childhood friend how to set a table, and wash dishes … even though I begged her NOT TO MAKE HER (because my friend didn’t have to do those things in her own house!) . It’s where my mom paid my friends to pack up the kitchen and store everything in the garage when she decided it was time to remodel our kitchen. It’s where my friends were part of my family(and vacationed with us). It’s where, if we didn’t like what Mom was making for dinner, we could go next door to the neighbors. ”
“Where an extra place could always be set, and friends were always welcome – even last minute.”
“It’s the routine … dinner at 7:30pm… holidays, family get-togethers, and family traditions … ”
“It’s where no matter how bad the day is, there’s a hug waiting … and where I can just be me.”
“It’s all of the memories …. some great … some I wish I could have side-stepped.”
“Tears, laughter, moments of quiet. Stacks of books. Sadness and highs … The comfort of what mattered, and still does. ”
It’s where I built the tree house, and mowed the lawn, and watched my kids grow up
“Dirty laundry and dust bunnies aren’t deal breakers. Stinky shoes in the closet. A hamster having ‘escaped’. Life isn’t perfect. I suppose it doesn’t have to be, but sometimes I wish it were.”
The morning paper, a cup of tea, and the birds and squirrels on the patio, and the view from the sunroom.”
“It’s where I memorized children’s books (“one more story Mommy”) and woke up to the pitter patter of small feet. ”
“Listening to classical music when I’m alone, then being deafened by rock and roll and rap when the kids come home.”
“Where the tears and dreams and hopes and realities all came together… and made our lives one.”
“Homework and studying … dinner with the family and long table conversations … neighbors stopping by to visit. Holiday celebrations. Tears when the outside world pressed down too hard.”
“It’s where I don’t have to wear shoes or make-up … where the phone can ring without having to be answered. Where I can wear spandex pants and a wrinkled top … and not feel odd.”
“It’s where my closet can look like a dump, and I can still feel okay!”
“It’s where I can be me … scrunch my hair up … dig in the vegetable garden… eat all the ice cream my heart desires… let the dog jump on the couch… polish my nails on the coffee table … find an odd sort of comfort in just doing whatever I want.”
Go ahead… add to the comments. What does HOME mean to you? Share your thoughts and comments below. The Restivo Team – EWM Realtors International… Please visit our Blog: MiamiRealEstateCafe.com. And if and when you’re in the market to buy a home … or sell and move… please let us help. Alexandra and Vicki Restivo EWM Realtors International 305 793-1365… or send us a note here.
