What Stephanie Said? Yeah. That.

When I think of home

I think of a resting place

A place where there's peace, quiet and serenity...

I can close my eyes right now and hear Stephanie Mills' voice at the opening of the song, "Home" from the 1975 Broadway musical, "The Wiz" and feel completely connected to the lyrics Charles Smalls penned.  *picture me swaying from side to side*  You can't tell me he did not write them with who was then 5-year old Faith Margaret in mind!  That song spoke to my reality in ways my young mind couldn't possibly understand and the feelings are the same for me some 40 years later.  See, it has always been a fantasy of mine to have a home.  Not an apartment.  Not a spot.  Not my own place.  Not even a house.  My fantasy has always been and continues to be to have a home in the most sincerest form.  A resting place where there's peace, quiet and serenity.  Just like Stephanie sang about so long ago.

In that fantasy I envisioned I would share my home with good people I loved and cared for over dinners with a table crowded with bright and festive large serving dishes filled with steaming pasta, baskets lined with earth toned cloth napkins and crusty buttered and hot french bread nestled inside, varietals of opened bottles of wine and a huge glass bowl filled with crisp veggies making the perfect salad.  There would be candles lit in every dark corner of my home and soft soul music floating through the air that complimented the loud voices and raucous laughter of those good people all sprawled out on the sofa, love seat and floor.  Completely satisfied and feeling very much at home.  That was the fantasy.  Earlier this week a good friend opened her home to me for lunch and that fantasy from long ago summoned me again.  

It was a warm day and the sun was bright, caressing everything with it's amazing radiance.  Her front door was open and the aroma of the homemade Chicken Tortilla Soup that was simmering on the stove greeted me when I stepped onto her porch.  I gave a cheery, "Helloooo..." through the screen door and she ushered me inside with a warm, "It's so good to see you, friend" embrace.  She invited me to make myself at home and disappeared into her kitchen to finish preparing our meal.  

My ears perked up to the diverse array of music rising to the top of her home that ranged from jazz to latin, just loud enough for me to sway to the melody every now and again.  The entry way to the home had a wooden bench as it's companion where I imagined friends and family sat to remove their shoes before walking across the beautifully laid wood floor.  The large, rustic, wood dining room table situated perfectly beneath a beautiful light fixture beckoned me to run my fingers along it's grooves and imperfect indentions.  My eyes danced around and landed on countless pictures of her daughters, lover, family members, friends and pets adorning practically every wall.  A large canvas picture of a draw bridge nestled in the fog graced the wall in the family room and held me captive for a moment.  I caught myself wondering where the bridge lead and how I could I get to wherever it was?  A thick and colorful rug rested on the living room floor before the picture window that was unobstructed and offered a full view of the front yard and the bird feeder that offered treats to it's visitors.  Live lush green plants sat on this shelf and in that corner leaving trails of life throughout the rooms.  A Buddha was positioned near the front door exuding peace and serenity whenever I glanced in it's direction.  *Namaste*  Spices, fresh herbs and veggies, richly painted platters and artistic vases lined the pristine counters in the kitchen, hinting at the frequent use of this part of the house.  Sun rays bright enough to make me squint burst through the kitchen window above the kitchen sink.  With the front door ajar and the sliding door to the backyard open a gentle warm breeze carried through the home and ushered me to feast my eyes upon the lemon tree, herb garden, strawberry patch, vegetable patch and lush green grass that licked right up to the patio where a large table and chairs incite me to sit a spell.  This was a home.

My friend poured a tall glass of minty iced tea for me and made sure I sat in the most comfortable chair at the dining room table, as we began the journey of reconnecting after too much time apart.  She listened intently while she stirred the piping hot homemade soup on the stove, peering inside to make sure it was coming along fine.  She paused and asked questions at just the right time as she pulled large bowls from the cabinet that would hold the soup.  My friend laughed on cue at some random thing I said as she placed our meal on the table, held my hands and agreed with the same thanks I offered to bless our food.  Over the next hour or so, she watched with concern as I finished every drop of soup from that big festive bowl in front of me, offered me more, offered me more, refreshed my drink (even added more organic honey to taste), pushed cookies in front of me insisting I have something sweet...all while chattering away with me about the comings and goings of our lives.  We parted ways promising to do more of this...more often and sooner in the days to come.

I floated on that feeling of being cared for sparked by my friend opening her home to me that day.  And I left feeling inspired to dust off my fantasy and invite those I love and care for to float on the feeling of being cared for over an invitation to our home to share time, space, food and drink.  Now, I can get caught up in the tired exercise of reminding myself of what we need in our home before we should even consider such a gesture.  Or!  I can wonder at all we have that firmly puts that kind of foolish thinking squarely in perspective.  It matters not if our home is newly constructed, complete with modern furniture, air conditioning, plush carpet, rich flooring and enough square footage to comfortably fit everyone and 'dey Mama.  What matters most is the atmosphere we create beyond our walls that reflect all good things, you know?  Those values and priorities of our family life that saturate the environment and leave friends and family feeling lifted.   

Home is wherever we are and with whoever we are with.  And if I know my friend, I imagine opening her home to me and sharing her time (our most precious gift) and space did her some good as well.  Ain't that grand?!?

    

When I think of home, I think of a place

where there's love overflowing

I wish I was home, I wish I was back there

With the things I've been knowing