Just recently, I had the unenviable task, with my nieces, of packing up my sister’s home. My sister died last year and her things now had to go in all different directions: to my brother-in-law’s new home; to one niece’s home; to my home; and into storage for my other niece, while she travels the world.

This meant every single piece we wrapped and packed, or stickered for moving men, had to be individually considered and evaluated in terms of its use or its appropriate destination.

But more importantly, its emotional value had to be measured so we could decide to whom it mattered most and, therefore, what its most valued destination would be. So the memories, stories and meaning attached to even the smallest piece came flooding in. What a heart-rending task for the three of us.

During the packing, it made me think then about what actually makes a house a home. And as the day progressed and we wrapped memory after memory, I calculated a home is, in fact, a grand collective of things that matter; of things that tell the stories of our lives; of things that hold, in their very existence, the experiences we have as we journey through life.

Stored away in, or indeed crowding, our kitchen cupboards, linen closets, bookcases, shelves, walls – in all manner of shapes, sizes and uses, from small jugs to well-worn pillowcases, favourite books, pictures and vases, to furniture pieces and everything in between – are the things that capture and contain all the events and emotions which make our lives. Our homes are fair pulsating with life thoughout.

How wonderful for all of us who live in a place full of those things that matter. Imagine the noise if they could talk and describe their purpose or tell their stories! And as my sister’s home, bit by bit, came to an end, the enormous importance of ‘home’ etched itself firmly on my mind – repeatedly.

And to you I say, if you have provided a home for any amount of people for any amount of time, pat yourself on the back because you have given those who matter to you one of the best gifts in life they will ever receive. And to my sister Louise I say, thank you.

Until next time,