Recently, I was able to photograph a family’s home, or what was their home for a few years, in Alabama. This family is in the process of moving to another state due to a job transfer. The wife told me she loved the house the minute she saw it and it was hard to leave her home. I noted how she said house in the first part of that sentence and home in the last part. As I photographed the four bedroom, 2 bath, brick house, I thought about the differences between a house and a home; or at least what I thought made the difference.
After photographing the house and surrounding property, I asked the woman what she thought made it a home instead of a house. She told me, she had felt a comfort when she walked through the door for the first time.
She said a peace enveloped her as she viewed the house and once they had moved in, the feeling had progressed and became stronger. The family had made the house theirs, by personalizing it…giving some of themselves, living, loving.
She had learned to love her husband more there. They had raised their children there. She then said that they had not just lived there, but they had LOVED there…totally and unconditionally. She gave me many more reasons why the structure I had just photographed was a home instead of a house and I listened intently to her.
We talked about a lot of things while I was there, but the part about the structure being a house or a home has stuck with me. Our conversation has made me think of the beach house I had at one time, of how I felt at peace there. It didn’t matter what kind of day I had, when I was there I could relax, live, and love. One day, I am going to find a home again.Share this: