image via marys-view.blogspot.com
I make a living decorating houses. I live it and breathe it. I attempt to write about it here and share my passion for it with you.
But sometimes life reminds me that decorating and design is an underpinning to something bigger and more important.
And that is Home.
Home is where you came from. It is the springboard for your life. It is the place you will always remember all your days. You will forever walk through its rooms, even if physically it is long gone. You will remember its sights, sounds, and smells. You will see it in your dreams always.
Last week my dear mother-in-law passed away. She is at peace now I believe. Now we have only memories of her and the home that she made for her family. It was a place I became a part of when I was seventeen years old, before we were married. My earliest memories are of the immediate sense of warmth and welcome I felt the first time I walked through the door. Home-cooked Southern food was always on the stove and warm welcomes and hugs waited for me. I knew I had found my second family for life. The sounds of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren rang through the rooms.
Yes, beauty and order speak to me. I have longed for them since I was a child. But the thing that lives most in my heart and mind are memories of those intangible qualities that make a house a home. And those who make them happen.
I make a living decorating houses. I live it and breathe it. I attempt to write about it here and share my passion for it with you.
But sometimes life reminds me that decorating and design is an underpinning to something bigger and more important.
And that is Home.
Home is where you came from. It is the springboard for your life. It is the place you will always remember all your days. You will forever walk through its rooms, even if physically it is long gone. You will remember its sights, sounds, and smells. You will see it in your dreams always.
Last week my dear mother-in-law passed away. She is at peace now I believe. Now we have only memories of her and the home that she made for her family. It was a place I became a part of when I was seventeen years old, before we were married. My earliest memories are of the immediate sense of warmth and welcome I felt the first time I walked through the door. Home-cooked Southern food was always on the stove and warm welcomes and hugs waited for me. I knew I had found my second family for life. The sounds of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren rang through the rooms.
Yes, beauty and order speak to me. I have longed for them since I was a child. But the thing that lives most in my heart and mind are memories of those intangible qualities that make a house a home. And those who make them happen.
In Memoriam
Joyce Jewell Raley
July 19, 1930-March 31, 2011
