Home.

As you know by now, Mom and Dad have moved to their new house. It’s been a whirlwind for the Hatches in the last few months as Mom and Dad closed on their new house about two weeks before mom’s diagnosis. So in addition to getting ready for and beginning Mom’s treatment, we had to also figure out how to go through a house we’ve been in since 1986, sort, purge, pack, organize, move, unpack, and re-organize – while of course not letting Mom do any of those things!

You could say I’m a bit sentimental. I texted the new owner of the house to ask if I could take the doorknob from my childhood bedroom. I knew I’d have a hard time saying goodbye to the house that my little 2-year-old southern self moved into 30 years ago. But then cancer happened. Priorities changed. The move became fast and furious, happening on nights and weekends – and VERY fast.  There was barely time to think, much less mourn the house or take last photos (we didn’t have time to take any until the house was empty).

But something happened. The sadness and bittersweet feelings of losing the house lessened.  Not because I wouldn’t miss 703, but because it became so obvious that while the spiral stairs could certainly tell some stories, they didn’t make that house our home. Mom did.

Yes, I’ll miss the porch, and the spiral stairs.  I’ll miss the sound the floors made when you walked in a certain way down the hall, or the way the cabinet squeaked every morning when Dad made coffee. I’ll miss the living room where countless birthday parties, showers, and slumber parties have been held.  But do you know what I’d miss more than any of that if it left?  Mom.

That’s why on Tuesdays, there is no place in the world I’d rather be than in the teeny tiny infusion room with her. If I didn’t already live in Nashville, I’d likely be trying to quit my job or orchestrating a transfer to get home to be near her.

Those rooms, cabinets, fire places, and sounds didn’t make 703 our home – Mom made it our home. And what is now so clear to me is that our home will continue to be what it always has been – filled with love and kindness, because that is who Mom is.

The house changed a LOT over the 30 years. The love and work Mom and Dad put into that house is only rivaled by the love (and work!) they put into me and my brothers. And the same way our home is where they are, so is that love.  And that, after all, is what matters – all that matters. Recently I’ve seen it every day Dad has tirelessly made sure Mom is taken care of, and the way he made sure the new house was unpacked and organized in record time. So 30 years later, our family is reminded of what is really important, and that a house is just a house.  But true home is where your mom is (and dad too!).