Joie de Vie Art & Word

Time to celebrate art, design and the well chosen word

Dream Home

Isabella Stewart

 

A few years ago Rick and I decided to look for a larger home. Our home was cute and comfortable but a bit small for our life.  So, the search began.

Our realtor first showed us a house closer to my place of work and in a lovely neighborhood. It was a much roomier house than ours; there was an office for Rick, a studio for me, a large sunny yard and a pool, but it wasn’t perfect, there was much to be done. With our crazy schedules and skill-sets I didn’t think it was right for us, so we kept looking.

As we looked at other potential homes, some were brighter and shinier, some bigger, some smaller, my mind would always go back to the first house we saw. Have I mentioned the tree The front yard had a most lovely tree. It made me pause as I approached and left the house. It drew me back to the house over, and over again. I drove by it and looked from my car each day on my way to and from the office. I had our realtor take me back through, sometimes with Rick and sometimes with a friend.  Each time I passed the tree my heart was filled.

I could list everything that wasn’t right: hedges, floors, cabinets... None of it mattered; there was that tree... When I looked at the tree I knew We had found our new home..

New floors and some of the painting took place before we moved in. Furniture that fit the house was purchased. Art was hung, plants were placed and little by little we settled in.

I recall one evening, As we relaxed in our new home,, Rick asked how I liked being in my dream home. Now, I am a Pisces, a romantic dreamer and a people pleaser, who would never intentionally hurt a soul. So, where that literal minded imp that responded came from was a total mystery. I explained how I did love our new home, but a dream home was something much more:  newly built, bright and shiny, the castle on the hill, the glass house on a warm ocean beach... need I go on? The deed was done. Thank goodness for true love and a good sense of humor. I doubt that I shall ever here the end of the condolences for having to settle for less than my dream house.

Spring forward to last Friday. I was in the bedroom getting ready to meet a friend for dinner. Rick was rehearsing with friends for an upcoming show;  their voices and laughter floated down the hall.  As I walked to the front door I simply had to pause. There was Rick with his saxophone, surrounded by friends and making music. I knew in that moment that this was it;  a home filled with art, music, laughter and love truly is my dream home.  I walked to the car,  paused by the tree and smiled.

Joy and Gratitude,

Bella