made to be loved
I will never understand people who endeavor to make everything stay new or young. What is the point of putting covers and towels on sofas and dining table chairs? Were they made to sit there looking pretty? No! They were made to serve a purpose, to be sat on while families and couples and children eat meals together, or to be reclined on while the TV is on. You freak out when the car gets the least bit dirty but whoever said that having a clean car makes you worth more as a person? I will never understand it.
My house, I think, is more welcoming because it is sagging and full of interesting smells and additions. The refrigerator is covered in magnets from places we've been and pictures of people we used to know, and that makes it special. The table and chairs in our dining room are marked up with cup rings and places where water once dripped, but we have eaten together so many times at that table - ought it not show? Both of the sofas we have are floppy and saggy and full of tiny stains. They don't fluff up anymore, and you leave an indent of your butt after you stand up. But what is the purpose of having a sofa if you don't use it? What is a house without those who live in it? If nobody can tell that someone has lived in your house, is it really a home? The things in our houses were not made to be looked at, they were made to be loved, and they were made to be lived in.
This is, of course, not written with the intent to judge anyone for the way they keep their house. To me, though, houses are more valuable when they are imperfect. Houses are pointless if they do not become a home. And to those who didn't get that healthy, lived-in home when they were growing up, I pray that you will someday find a way to break that cycle and make a home wherever you choose to go. Maybe as our generation grows up we can make an effort to give that privilege to the next generation.
