What does HOME mean to you? #giveaway

HOME, a 4x4 canvas featuring acrylic paint & texturizing medium. Makes a great gift!

HOME, a 4×4 canvas featuring acrylic paint & texturizing medium. Makes a great gift!

Enough snow had fallen so Thanksgiving felt festive, but not so much so anyone had to worry about getting from here to there.

I was looking forward to going around the table and sharing with everyone all the things for which I am thankful.

How lucky I felt: to be there – all of us all together – in a warm, cozy home where there is always a comfortable place to sit and a plate of delicious food to eat.

I wanted everyone to know that it’s true what your grandma said: your health really is everything;

That being home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling.

It’s a green toothbrush on the bathroom sink. It’s his bowl left on the kitchen table. It’s the sound of the garage door going up at the end of the day. It’s warm zucchini bread cooling on the countertop, the cat lying in that spot on the landing, the laundry twirling in sloppy circles.

If there’s one thing we share – no matter our race, income, religion or beliefs – it’s that we all want a place to call home, a place filled with love.

I’m getting back into the swing of the holidays by offering HOME  to one lucky commenter. how can you win?

Leave a comment in which you tell me what you think of when you hear the word “HOME,” then click HERE for additional information.

This contest is open to residents of the United States only. Enter as many times as you want between now & December 6th. One lucky winner will be announced on my blog on December 15th at 9 AM, so be sure to check back. If I don’t hear from the winner within 24 hours, Random Number Generator will select another winner.

tweet me @rasjacobson

46 responses to “What does HOME mean to you? #giveaway

  1. Hmm… Home is the place where I can relax completely, and ask myself “What do I feel like doing now?”

    • Hi Diane: Is comfort a place for you? Or an item? What do you picture when you say “comfort”? For me, that zucchini bread cooling on the counter about sums it up for me. Or my son bundled up in his white fleece blanket on a cold winter morning. Ahhhhh.

      • I guess … it’s a state of mind brought on by being in the space where I feel most comfortable and at ease in the world. I’m fully free to be myself and be surrounded by my favorite things. I have my favorite coffee mug, a good book and a crackling fire to enjoy. I also glance around my new kitchen, a space I helped create, and I feel pride in the beautiful space that brings me comfort. :_)

        • I love that so much, Diane. Who doesn’t like to be surrounded by his/her favorite things. Congrats on the new kitchen. We just painted the family room and bought a new rug and couch; it’s amazing how different everything feels. It was time for an update. Even though everything is new, it still feels just right. We should have done this a long time ago!

  2. I know the “feeling of home” you are talking about. Sitting outside on the stone wall dividing our property and Mr. C’s house….visiting my favorite neighbors and friends on H. Drive (you know who you are!)…….

  3. Having moved a LOT in my life I can honestly say that home is wherever the family is and that includes my two wonderful dogs (of course!).

  4. Home is simply the place we’re always yearning for. Sometimes home is in the arms of the lover. Sometimes it’s the smile in your children’s eyes. And sometimes it’s being warmed by the wood stove, with the fragrance of freshly popped corn tickling your nostrils while watching the Seahawks beat just about anybody.

  5. Although I’m very happy with my wife and comfortable in our home, when I think of HOME, I harken back to Christmases spent at my maternal grandmother’s house. There would be somewhere around 20 of us in her three bedroom home (my father always said her house had rubber walls). She would always make homemade cinnamon rolls for Christmas breakfast and let me take one pan out early so my dad and I could get them before they got cooked all the way through.

    My dad and my two uncles would always have a game or two of 42, and if my dad’s parents weren’t there, I’d get to be the fourth. I loved that. When I was younger I’d be playing with various cousins.

    We always had a good time, but I remember being glad I wasn’t one of the adult women. They had to spend all their time in the kitchen while the men and kids were visiting or playing games. Didn’t seem quite fair, but I was glad I was on the side not trapped in the kitchen.

    • I think snuggling up in the family bed and game playing are high up on my childhood definitions of home, too. Thank you for sharing all of that. I’m so glad to have you in my life, David N. Walker. By the way, I tweeted you today: first real personal tweet in a loooong time.

  6. I’m like David – my memories of home center around big family gatherings at my grandma’s house. Plenty of food, playing games, and having wrapping paper fights after opening Christmas gifts. Otherwise, the best word to describe my home life is “simple.” I rode my bike, read books, helped my mom hang out wash, and just enjoyed living in the country. Nothing special or fancy, but I grew up with a sense of enjoyment and felt safe where we lived. Who can ask for more?🙂

  7. Home was the theme of Joe’s and my wedding. Our wedding bands are both engraved with the words “Home is wherever I’m with you.” And we sang the song Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros for our guests. Home has always been meaningful for us. It’s how we make each other feel. When we hold one another, when we’re together, we’re home. He makes me feel at home – his arms around me, the way he smells, the sound of his voice, the feeling of his beard against my cheek. He is my home.

    Lovely contest, Renee!

  8. I think “comforted”. Like just walking into my house makes me feel comforted. Actually, I feel the same way when I walk into my office at work, like this is my space, I belong here, I am comforted by being in this space. I think it’s a kind of emotional safety thing. Like when you were a kid and you went into your room, especially if you were feeling hounded or upset, emotional. I was your own, private place to escape to. Even if you were feeling good, it was your cocoon of selfness. Sanctuary is probably a better word for it, but I think “comforted”.

    • “Your cocoon of selfness.” I like that. Sometimes I worry that my son doesn’t feel a sense of comfort here, that he’d rather hide out in the computer room with his headphones on. And then he comes out with a smile, and I feel a fleeting sense of relief. I want my husband and son to feel that sense of sanctuary that you feel in your home. And I want it too. Thank you for sharing.

      • I was just thinking that when I was a kid, it was shutting my door, being quiet with myself, and that meant a book or some music, something like that. For him it may be those head phones. I needed that aloneness to rejuvenate myself and build back my emotional fortitude. When we live (and work) with others, we absorb their emotions, their moods, their worries – we absorb them, the other person, in a way. Some people thrive on that, feed on it, it’s like emotional energy, a boost, a recharge. Others of us get drained instead. It’s not a fault or a lacking on either side, we’re just not all the same.

        It can’t have been easy to see his mom suffer. That’s not a parent criticism – you couldn’t help it, and I believe that there are absolutely times when we MUST focus on healing ourselves and put that before others. Not that we don’t care or worry about or hurt for the people around us, but that we have to, HAVE TO, concentrate on self. Because if we don’t, then there will be no more self. But I am just thinking that watching your parent suffer, not being able to help, not fully understanding maybe, not knowing what to do, not having that loved one be the same person, having life shook up for a while – those are things I’d want to escape from now at 45 yrs old, much less if I was a teen. Even though things are getting back to normal, I’d need to decompress.

        I obviously don’t know the full situation, the full dynamics, so I could just be completely off base. And probably am. But maybe those head phones are his cocoon, his shutting the door. His alone time to recharge from the emotions around him and maybe inside him too. His book, his music, his escape to something, somewhere wholly unrelated to the real, now world. And then he comes back smiling to you. His first and forever home, his permanent place of comfort.

        • I’m weeping as I read your words. You’ve hit it on the head in a way I couldn’t. Because you have the outside perspective. You can, perhaps, see if more clearly. I hate the idea that I’ve done (or am continuing to do) harm to my son. I’m glad that he has places to escape all the craziness in his life. I just miss him so much when he is in the house and yet in another room, alone. It just makes me sad. But as a friend pointed out to me today, it isn’t that different from locking oneself in one’s room and putting a “KEEP OUT” note on the door. At least he isn’t doing that, right?

          • Exactly what I thought – he’s doing it in a common area, private in his earphones, but not separate, not at all closed off from you. And he’s a teen, so that’s just part of what they do anyway. This is the time when they start to pull away, and moms start to miss what was. You want them to grow up, but it’s sad at the same time.

            And there’s no way you have harmed your son. You set such a firm foundation before, and this – in hindsight – will be a blip only. A small moment in your long lives. You haven’t beat or starved him, you haven’t left him in the cold or called him names or broken his spirit in other ways. You have only been vulnerable in his presence, and based on what I know of you, you have taught him how to persevere. How to find coping strategies. And maybe most importantly, how to ask for help when you need it. Those are important lessons.

            I was worried you are beating yourself up and questioning. Please don’t. When he starts setting things on fire or secret drinking or something like that, then you can worry!

            • No no no. He’s a great person, an incredible young man. I definitely beat myself up for not being there the way I would have liked to have been – also I wish he didn’t have to see my so compromised for so long. It was really hard for him, my husband, too! Thank you, Michelle, for sticking with me during this difficult time. I’ve lost a lot of friends in real life and in the bloggersphere. I’m truly grateful for your words of wisdom.🙂

  9. When I think of home I think of Baka. And this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm-q0ELuk1A (just replace “two cats in the yard” with “one dog on the bed”)

  10. Renee,

    You are spot on — home is not an address, but a feeling. I could describe my home in a plethora of ways, but for me and without pretense it was and always has been belonging. Always welcomed anytime, and simply “free to be” for however long.

  11. After Kattina I was forced to face the “Home” question. I wondered if we would ever again be inside the house we left. It didn’t take long for me to understand that home was much more about “with whom” than “where.”

  12. Pingback: Wordless Wednesday: My Kitty Cat | renée a. schuls-jacobson

  13. Home means not having to wear a bra!!!

  14. Home is where ever my husband and kitty are. We could be living under a bridge, but it would be home as long as they are there.

  15. Pingback: Fill Me Up Friday: It’s Ding-a-Ling Day! | renée a. schuls-jacobson

There's Always Room For One More Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s