Tuesday, March 28, 2023

The Seven Homes that Built Me




My husband is a carpenter. I always wanted to marry a man who could build dreams. Plus, Jesus was a carpenter, so my little girl brain thought it would be a blessed profession. Throughout his twenty years of building, I often have stated, “ Yours is a subtlety noble profession. Even in the mundanity of it, you are building safe places for people to choose how to live. You’re providing the basics. In lucky cases you’re creating. You’re creating dreams and extraordinary places. But overall you’re providing something that we all need to thrive…a home. You are also witnessing their lives in a way most professions don’t get to witness the lives of their clients. It’s an opportunity for ministry and it’s in opportunity for servitude, but it’s also an opportunity to build dreams. It’s a beautiful thing. Plus your hands are very capable at so many things… “ He laughs (and doubts me often on the hard weather days) but I believe it’s true. An honest, good carpenter is one of the worlds best professions.

Over my almost forty years on this planet, there have been many people in many homes that have shaped me. But seven stand out. These are the homes that I spent copious amounts of hours in different phases of my life. These are the places that fused my memories of heartache and dreams together. In fact I can’t think about aspects of these homes without deeply feeling gratitude. Sometimes even a tear in my eye forms or a lump in my throat forms due to the sheer beauty of the gift they gave me.

1. My paternal Grandma‘s home in British Columbia. My grandma still lives in the same home that I lived with her in over 30 years ago. Grandma‘s home was not only my home for a few years in my childhood with my parents, but it was also a place to go to every summer and as I became older each spring break. It felt like my home in every sense of the word. Most of my relatives disliked it because of the place it was in. It was a rough and tough town however that did not matter to my child like eyes full of wonder. It was the Southern facing warmth of her shag carpet smelling like sunshine. The sound of her knees cracking and her bracelets clanking as she joyfully walked down the hall to water plants. It was a beautiful castle mirror that my dad made, hung at the top of her stairs, that evoked my fairytale imagination, while the Chipmunks played on the record player beside it. It was sunny days spent smelling pine trees and all the wonders of her beautiful garden as I walked around her house over and over again. It was the feel of the concrete of her slanted driveway that I pretended was my castle. Secretly, I thought her castle was better than any other castle in the world. I still dream about that house. We designed our structure of our current home based on that home. It's standard and looks simple but it is full of memory, shared history and safe magical wonder. She is to move soon and my heart breaks for her and for myself. I keep crying whenever I think about it and generally I do not cry often.

2. Sanky  was the name of my early childhood home in Saskatchewan. I only lived there on and off until I was six. The summers I spent in BC. A decade ago the home was torn down due to the fact that it was so old and poorly built. My family was poor too so we made good companions. The boardwalk was wood and I can still recall the giant sliver that I got from running barefoot upon it. However, I also can recall short little walks to the park. I can recall watching Carebears with my brother while we were sick in the tiny little bedroom. I can  recall wearing my dad's headphones that were plugged into the record player and blasting Amy Grant or any of his other Christian albums. I can recall running around in the small college Library or lecture rooms while he worked and I flipped the seats up and down and up and down. It was a tiny town but I felt safe. I felt loved. I cried and cried when we moved to the town I still call home. 

3. We moved into a slightly larger subsidized home on a new college campus. It was larger than our previous town but still small enough to give the feeling of cozy. Our garden plot was as big as our home plot because that is how we were expected to get by on the wage my father was paid. Oh the amount of peas and raspberries I ate in the summer! Thanks to my maternal grandmother and mother we had canned goods in the winter for a break from the copious amounts of cheap gluten breads, pastas and cereals we lived off of. ( In hindsight being sick constantly in my childhood points to my current celiac condition.) I loved the eastern living room light that flung dust mites around. Dusting was my favourite job in that home because I could look at all of my moms pretty knick knacks while blasting the Beach Boys or Judy Garland or the Beatles (no I’m not that old but I was old fashioned) whilst pretending that the dust was fairy sparkles. At that point in our lives part of my dad's job was hosting college students at our house. I can still recall the amount of laughter. That tiny home was full of games and cheer and quirky fun neighbors. We suffered. I was sick often. I can recall some darkness, but overall it was an idyllic childhood. We were quite poor but I didn’t know it fully. Because I had community. I had nature to run around freely in, just outside my door. I had a garden in the summer, and the local food cellar in the winter. I had family and church and old movies and aunts and uncles and oranges at Christmas. I felt rich often too.

4. With the help of some relatives, my father built a new home (that they still reside in) facing the west. The sunsets from that home are unbeatable. On clear days the mountains can be seen in the distance over the rolling golden fields of the prairies. I felt safe moving into that home because the walls were fully concrete. I felt rich too. I had a huge room all to myself even though the ceiling didn’t get done for seven years and I had to help pay for it myself… But until then I had a huge event poster covering the insulation that my dad brought home from one of his youth ministry gatherings. I loved attending those even though I technically wasn’t old enough to. I got to see Christian bands throughout the 90s that were famous and fun. I was able to host my friends for sleepovers almost every weekend. Friends became family. Just passed 18, my husband and I moved into the basement suite made just for us when we married young and lived off of 200 a month. In later years, when each of my children were born they would visit that house for meals, Christmas, Easter and loads of holiday times in between. Back when my cousins came to visit every summer they would have the extra gift of extended family moving in and out of the house. My grandparents lived in the side of it. We could go steal cookies from Grandma’s and eat all of her baking. The yard of  half an acre was home to many trees and a small pool. My children still benefit from the gorgeous situation of that home. 

5. My maternal grandparents moved a lot growing up. But each of their homes I can recall and I cherish. Each one would have a similar feeling because they made it their home. Each home would always smell like coffee percolating mixed with the aroma of fresh buns. There was always my grandmothers weathered spinning wheel plant holder that reminded me of sleeping beauty. It now sits in my home, gifted to me before her passing recently. Baking was always a standard. The house often smelled of pickling spice and cinnamon. But the home that I remember the most of theirs, besides the one my grandpa still lives in as part of my parents home, was three houses down from ours up in the Heights. My grandpa became a janitor at the same college my dad worked in and thus lived in the subsidized  housing. Their garden was better than ours. After school I would run home to watch my grandparents cable TV because we weren’t allowed TV. We just watched movies. So I would run home to sit on Grandma's bed for the Care Bears or the Brady Bunch or Full house or Inspector gadget… Grandma would always come in with a plate of cookies or a bowl full of chocolate chips, marshmallows, raisins, sesame seeds and berries. I knew I was always welcome at grandma’s house and there would be food for my often hungry belly.

6. When my daughter was five months old my husband moved us up into the same heights that I had grown up in... only around the block to the east from my previous home. We ended up having the ground level home with the kitchen facing east this time and our living room facing west. We had about four boxes of belongings, an old couch, and a bed given to us by my mom. At that time I didn’t believe the friend who said, "Don’t worry, one day you will have so much stuff you won’t know what to do with it…" She was right. But when she was holding a box full of used toys given to my daughter because we had none… I didn’t fully believe her. I wondered how she could afford such toys! And how people could afford such meals! For that matter, how could people afford to share? I tried my best to share what we could, often sacrificing the decorations off my tree for the one who lost everything or the extra food portion saved or the milk money found...and it was a lesson on where treasure was truly found. It was a lesson on circumstances and boundaries. It was a lesson that only poverty can teach. Because what my husband made was just enough to cover our subsidized home bill and give us less than we needed to eat and clothe ourselves… And those years I learned how to get by. I learned how to be frugal and creative. I learned what I can do without. And what amazing things God provides when we trust. When my husband needed steel toe boots, and the 200 dollar price tag seemed enormous because it was our mortgage money, we prayed, he went to the local tilly (second hand College store) and there were steel toe boots in his size for ten dollars! There were so many moments like that, which is why I tend towards charity giving instead of garage sales ( the anonymity and less personal feeling of a shop gave me dignity.) I was the person who found what was needed with tears of relief at the second hand shop... I learned how much joy there is in life even when it seems like you don’t have much. I am so grateful for those years, even though they were some of the hardest of my life due to many factors. Budget just being one of them. Health scares. Miscarriages. Postpartum depression. Poverty. Family expectations. The tumultuous 20s. Finding oneself. Finding God. Finding lasting friendships.… All of it was very hard. But it’s shaped me to who I am today and I still have very fond memories of the youth my husband and I shared in that home. Now, I still find I have to fight the scarcity mindset and learn once again to live in provided abundance, yet when I do, miracles seem to happen.

7. When my youngest was a few months old, we moved into the house we live in today. My husband worked at a construction company who saw and felt for us I think. The boss offered my husband the home at cost. We had to get a special kind of mortgage. We switched a few years into our own but at that time we had to rely on others. I could hardly believe it when I walked up the stairs for the first time. I felt so rich. On my right was a beautiful new black fridge humming away. I had never had a new appliance before. The oven and the dishwasher sparkled. The rooms felt huge to what I was used to. The plot was gorgeous and full of potential for trees. The living room view faced south towards the fields on the school that I went to elementary in. It was only three blocks away from the home which my husband and I had previously lived in (which comforted me) and only a few blocks away from my parents house to the west. I suddenly recalled a moment in my childhood where I was playing in the elementary school on the north facing side at recess and I looked across the fields. At that point it was not developed land but just farmers fields as far as the eye could see. I remember a soft whisper of knowing; "You’re going to find a home here one day. There’s something special for you in that field. Something beyond what you could imagine. You will find home.” My children hear this story a lot because it feels providential. It felt like a prophesy of love and care at a time when I was often insecure. I was in about grade 5 and I remember feeling so perplexed. What could possibly be in that field? I pictured myself digging gold out in that field. When I would bike to the east of it where the pathway stopped I would just sit and stare wondering what could that mean? Little did I know that my home would be here. Little did I know that I would raise my children to adulthood in that field. Little did I know that I WOULD get the love story I wanted that was shaped by my obsession with 1940's films and musicals. I would learn the best lessons of my life in that field. The husband of my youth would become the husband of my middle age. That we would experience death and life together in that field. It was better than a treasure chest full of gold. Now I have a heart full of treasures.

We almost lost our home several times over the years, because we could barely afford to keep it, but I’m so glad that we were not able to move away. Over the years we have renovated it and we’re in the process of renovating it again, to make it work for our lives. This time the renovations are about community. They are about a calling and a new phase.  It’s been a beautiful home full of the provision we needed to become a family.

I often feel that God knows my heart and that rootedness would be essential to my sanity. He knew that I was wired differently and needed stability to flourish and be the best version of me. My gratitude for this is beyond measure.  We still have to weigh our budget carefully. But I would rather have stability and a sense of rooted belonging than all the riches in the world. Of course I would love to travel more but I am so blessed that occasionally we can travel between the three provinces that I grew up in on occasion. It can be both a hardship and a blessing to have the same people in one’s life that witnessed teenage hood or childhood or that tumultuous 20s or are searching 30s… But if they allow us room to grow and we allow them room to grow and change, something beautiful can happen. We can be a witness. We witness each other’s lives and we challenge, we encourage, we inspire. Change is part of life. It’s inevitable. So too, must we change. There’s a difference between rootedness and stagnancy.  Little did I know that my field of the unknown  riches would be the riches of hearth and home. When I look back on these seven homes, I see God was building so much within me, my husband, my children and our community. If anything makes me cry, it's gratitude. More than grief, I will often get choked up on gratitude. I don't deserve what I have. I hardly even earned it. It was grace given. It was prayers of my heart answered in such unexpected ways. Poverty is tough and I do not glamourize it, but like anything in life, there CAN be lessons learned and beauty that rises from the ashes. For us, it taught trust, prayer, sharing despite, balance, and the true joy of simplicity. 

When our family works on our home together on top of work and school and life, because we can not afford to pay another, we learn so much! We fight too at times, but we share in the glorious experience of building dreams. The electrical my son learned taught caution in power. The sanding and constant priming taught me patience and I also learned that just because I’ve never burnt wood designs before doesn’t mean I shouldn’t even try! Drilling screws and pounding nails taught my daughter precision and the gift of strength. Holding the light while my husband hooked up the plumbing in the lower level ceiling taught my youngest the sacredness of two and the crucial element light brings to any situation. We are not just building a home. We are building life. We are learning that what happens in the womb of secrecy will eventually expand into a life giving dream. We are learning that faith is often unspoken but that it is an aspect of All that IS. We see God in the mundane and our belief is stronger because in the practical we see beyond. 

All of these homes were not magazine worthy, or even sometimes up to code! They were all humble and almost all of them were the shape of a rectangle box. But yet each one held a richness I was formed in. A gratitude that cannot be replaced or fully expressed. 



 











Song choice: the House thatBuilt Me- Miranda  Lambert ( and Alan Jackson’s  Home https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VAZZrj4LWA4 

5 comments:

MR said...

Well crafted pictures: I feel like I have been to each of these homes!
I love the gratefulness of your heart..

Full Spectrum Mama said...

I love this so much. You really embody amazing gratefulness and wisdom.

Home is super-important to me, too, and having also struggled (ongoing) with poverty, I GET IT.

Beautiful!! Here's to finding safety, coziness, love, and beauty,
FSM

Kmarie said...

Thank you! I am so grateful. I think gratitude beats anxiety and hate any day so I’m trying to cultivate it more! Have a blessed week.

Full spectrum mamma;
Thank you I can only hope!
Yes! Home is so crucial to our senses of belonging in the world ( well safe homes I should say where there is love always and freedom with boundaries … obviously not abusive homes …but when in the beauty of grace we cultivate a place to grow - even in spite of terrible hardships like poverty - something beautiful happens) I can actually recall how proud I was when I found a cardboard box the size of a side table and a beautiful cloth of fabric I set on it with a few books I cherished and a candle - and my mom made a blue couch cover for our gaudy orange and brown seventies couch - and I felt so blessed and rich ! Those memories remind me that I don’t need the latest trend - I just need love and creativity ! I’m both sorry and happy you know what I’m speaking of ( if that makes any sense. Lol ;) I think when we begin in poverty unless something amazing happens - even when we work hard - being at a place of even being able to save ( due to constant catch up) can be virtually impossible but ya know? If we have a few good people in our lives - sometimes that faith in community can ideally meet some of that need in exchange for our giftings … I’m so grateful that even though our family is considered under the poverty line in Canada we are still in the greater percentage of needs met which I’m so so grateful for - it’s a struggle but it’s not devastating poverty - I was hungry but I wasn’t starving ever. it’s more run of the mill mid- low class poverty - which has its own merits and downsides . It’s what we are in so I can’t compare either upwards or downwards- someone will always be better or worse off I think regardless. I hope despite wherever I am I will still have a spirit that shares …I hope no matter of circumstances change for better or worse. .. there was this scandal near us where peoples banks were getting hacked and slowly drained subtely but I didn’t have to worry about that happening to us as it’s never at more that our automatics the day of lol - so I guess there is a bit of freedom that way sometimes- my hackers would be declined 😂

Yes ! We all could use more safety, love , coziness and beauty ( by beauty I mean the sweeping sunsets/ the smile of a child/ the richness of a colour/ etc )

S said...

How are you doing ? Hope all is well. Hope your home renovation is nearly complete and you are satisfied with the final outcome. From what I can see from these pictures, I have a feeling that it is going to have a complete New Look !!
Your post brought back memories of many homes that I have lived/ stayed, each having its own memories. Both happy & sad memories. I still don't have a home of my own, having lived in rented places for so long & yet to own a home so that I can finally call it "my place".
So, when I visit my parents' home ( which my father built in our hometown), I feel a sense of belonging. I grew up there and I still have my own childhood room & memories there.
Our childhood was very similar it seems. The kind of music you listened to , frugal living - we had similar childhood and youth. Also those were the times - the aura of those time was so different! I feel out of place nowadays. I turned 45 this year and missing those days again. So, when you expressed your inner feelings about your past & also your present, about gratitude, about love & God's presence, I could immediately connect with all your emotions & relieved those emotions through you.
Take care dear friend and keep writing ,
With love,
Sangha

Kmarie said...

Hey Sangha ! We just completed our living room yesterday. Kitchen was completed last month. Now we move on to the bathroom upstairs and the main area for books in between … then we finish our room downstairs ( we moved laundry down there) and the boys bathroom and entry - by the time we are done the whole home had a switcheroo and a face lift! Luckily there is the 5 of us working which helps! We are having a complete new look although my living room still has my old vibe :) I’ll post picture maybe within the month !
I love when our parents stay in the same place and give us childhood memories in a room and home. I’m glad you have that! Yea I understand - when we rented we tried our best to make it our own but there was only so much we could do although if you can paint your own colours that helps a lot ! I feel so lucky that my husband worked at the construction company that we bought this home from - we wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise years ago … and now I’m happy to finally make it more conducive to our lives and the big groups we have over.

Yes we did seem to have similar ! There are some blessings and deep gratitude ingrained sometimes in having less… although I’m so grateful when circumstances and hard work align to have plenty too.

You are right! Such a different aura with no social media. I’m glad I’m off everything except here as I get more of that vibe now but the people around me don’t do it’s jarring often. I feel the same

Congrats on your birthday!!!! I turn 40 in November ! Life has flown which is why I feel it’s so important to feel gratitude despite circumstances and God hope every day I wake - there is so much more than life and dying - and the in between can be both hardship and gift! I’m glad you could relate. You are definitely a kindred soul !