Most people would agree with Dorothy Gale from The Wizard of Oz when she proclaimed “There’s no place like home.” Be it ever so humble, home means different things to each of us. Home can be a physical structure, something we run to or from (who among us didn’t try that as a child?). Home can also be a feeling, or even an idea.
Many of us take pride in being homeowners, creating a sacred space not only for shelter and necessity but for creating memories. The poet Ralph Waldo Emerson famously said “A house is made with walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.” Whether buying a gently used starter, taking an older place down to the studs, or building new from the ground up, home is where the heart is.
2020 provided each of us with more than enough time at home. Suddenly and unexpectedly our private oases, the spots where we sought to renew ourselves, became our all-inclusive environments. We were asked to stay home, work, learn, and teach from home, and do this for an undetermined period of time.
Now, truth be told, as an introvert and lifelong homebody, I have been preparing for a shelter in place for decades. I love being alone. Physical distancing and staying home have long been my preferred modes of socialization. I just pictured doing this of my own free-will, and not under the same roof as anyone else besides my husband.
A few months prior to the onset of Coronavirus, my husband and I had completed building our dream home. Initially, our three adult children were not on board with us selling their childhood residence – the only home they had ever known - nor were they excited that our new abode was designed more along the lines of an empty nest for two versus a family residence. Our new place was supposed to be a spot for them to visit for short periods of time. There was no longer the luxury of private bathrooms and bedrooms. Our new place included beautifully staged guest rooms with matching bedding, throw pillows, and walls free of taped-up posters. This was Mom and Dad’s place; the old homestead now belonged to someone else. Eventually, they acquiesced and we were all excited to begin a new chapter in our lives.
Then, in the blink of an eye, all three chicks who had previously flown the coop came back to roost.
With the onset of Coronavirus, we, like many families, once again became a collective of adults living under one roof. We needed to adjust existing space accordingly. The kitchen island became a virtual classroom and the dining room table was used as a work zone for larger projects. Thankfully, everyone was able to conduct their respective meetings and reach deadlines. Although at times it was hectic, we used every inch of our home to its fullest extent. Ah yes, home sweet home indeed.
Many of us were challenged to make better use of existing areas of our homes. Closets became built-in desks and sunrooms were turned into distance learning classrooms. Add a bookcase here and a printer-stand there, freshen up the lighting, and voila: a new office appeared in the guestroom. Homeowners have chosen everything from minor home improvements to new construction. Pandemic remodeling is booming. Kitchen and bath renovations and room additions are among the most popular projects for contractors and homeowners wishing to adapt to this new way of life. 2020 saw one of the highest levels of home-remodel spending and it continues to rise. To quote the architect Edward Allen, “Almost every component of a building serves more than one function, with some components commonly serving ten or more simultaneously.” Truer words were never timelier than they are now.
Much like Dorothy, we experienced a stormy upheaval of life as we knew it. We were thrust into a swirling world we never imagined existed and felt a loss of control. We longed to return to a place where things made sense. And we did that together from the comfort of our home.
Looking back on this past year of change, I have a new meaning of what home is to me. Home is where my family is. Home is where I can always offer a soft landing for my kids, no matter how old they are and whatever the circumstances may be. And maybe, just maybe, if I can find both ruby slippers in the pile of shoes at my front door, I will click my heels together three times and remember: there’s no place like home.