Wednesday, December 4, 2024
by: Kelly McGinn

Having Thanksgiving week come and gone, I have been thinking about what home means to me.  When I think of the word, I think of comfort, safety, security and the nostalgia that is wrapped up in this one single word, home.  From the time we are very young the experiences we have with our family shape what it means to be home.  Our homes are full of our daily rituals, smells of food cooking, laughter and sometimes tears and the customs that each family honors as a way to keep our heritages intact.  

As I reflect on what home means, I think of my childhood experiences of coming home to a family dinner every single night.  I think about my mom as she was a high school accounting teacher picking my brother and me up from school after a long day of teaching.  She would then make a full meal before she retired to grade a stack of papers that was a foot tall.  We would talk as a family and share our day’s experiences.  My dad would talk politics, my brother would talk about sports and my mom shared funny stories from her day teaching.  It was the daily grind that then became our lives, and I can still close my eyes and picture sitting around that rattan and glass table with my childhood family 35 years ago.

Now as a mom, I think about shaping our home in a way that will influence my children’s idea of what it means to be not only in the physical aspect of household, but everything that encompasses “home.” I want them to know that they’re always accepted in our home and that truly everyone is.  It’s a sense of whatever is going on in the world, whatever anyone else thinks of you, you are loved unconditionally when you walk through our front door.  You can just be you at the McGinn home, always.

I also have a keen responsibility as a mother to create an environment that will one day evoke nostalgic feelings for my two kids.  The traditions of breakfast casserole on Christmas morning while working on a 5000-piece puzzle, or playing Scrabble with their grandmother for hours upon end after the Thanksgiving meal is finished.  I want to fill their memories with fresh smelling sheets, orange blossom candles burning, hugs from both parents when they come home, the “love you so much” every single day.  A house full of love is what I hope I am providing my family.

Just yesterday, our daughter, Helena after a week-long visit returned to Ole Miss where she’s a junior.  She hasn’t been home since the beginning of August, so it was a highly anticipated return by everyone.  She couldn’t wait to sleep in her own bed, cuddle with Watson, our dog, and simply to be home.  Nothing could make me happier than having her want to come home as much as we wanted her right back where she belongs – with her family.  I will also mention the small ache that I am feeling with the thought of Jackson heading off to college after he finishes his senior year at Chaparral High School.  With that, I am savoring every second with him being home and hope he always knows that wherever he is in his life, there is always one place he can always come, and that’s home.