Home : the Greatest Setting for the Stories of Our Lives

It’s quiet here this morning. I can see my breath and feel a freezing sensation in my nose when I inhale. In the sky, there is nothing but an icy blue. A fog snuggles tightly into the edge of the valley as I walk over to the hangar. I want to hurry to keep warm; I want to slow down to enjoy the beauty of outside.

Journals have been flying off my shelves and right under so many Christmas trees. It’s an incredible experience to build all of these holiday packages for all of you! My work comes with a lot of chaos and noise. There isn’t much silence.

But right now in the early morning? There is silence.

I walk around the perimeter of the hangar. I see evidence of the progress Martin is making with remodeling our future home in the back of the building. I haven’t been much help to him; I am processing journal orders as he’s making all these changes. I’m finalizing Christmas plans and wrapping gifts for the people we love. As a small handmade business owner, I want to give our dollars to other small and handmade businesses. I want to be a link in that chain. This year, I think we did that.

This year, I think we’ve done so much. I think you and I have shared so much.

My parents sold their house last weekend. The house was much too big for two people. It was a very exciting but equally sad time for us all. Saying goodbye to your childhood home is always like that. I think of all the different corners of the house and all the memories I have.

There was the first time Martin called me; I was playing Christmas songs on the piano as my mom and sister sat on the couch behind me. There was the day my brother handed me my new niece last Christmas in the kitchen. And before all of that, there was posing for First Day of School photos when it was so smokey from forest fires that we couldn’t even see the mountains right behind us.

There was packing for summer camp and throwing socks at the living room fan when my sister and I were supposed to be folding laundry. There was learning how do to laundry. There was my dad and me at the table with a plastic blue filing box for organizing and picking which college I wanted to go to, and my mom making me use an electric typewriter to fill out all my scholarship applications. There was learning how to play chess in the basement at 3:00 am on Christmas when my brother and I couldn’t sleep. There was our beloved cat who drank from the Christmas tree stand and liked to sit on the lap of whoever was at the computer.

There was joy.

In so many ways, I feel myself shutting doors to one home while preparing to open the doors of a new, unconventional home. And again, it’s so sad but so exciting.

The incredible thing about home is that it really has nothing to do with the building. It’s all about the people. A home is just the setting for all the stories of our lives. You don’t need a perfect home to have a good life. You just need good people that you love and a passion to live.

One of my greatest goals isn’t for business. It’s for home. I want to create a home that is welcoming for all our friends and family… the way my parents have always done.

The Montana cold is making my toes curl. I finally put my hand on the frozen metal doorknob and open the hangar door. I step into the chaos of remodeling and stomp the snow off my feet. I inhale the warmer air. And I wonder: what are the memories we will be making in this home? What are the moments we will write in our hearts?