Saturday, November 28, 2020
King of Prussia, PA
Dear Varun,
As I am writing this, we are waiting to hear back about the West Chester house. I am nervous – we are thisclose but so many things are still up in the air so we shouldn’t get too excited although it is hard to not start planning. As you know, I am pretty happy with the home, especially with the all the trees and the land space we are getting. I am also really looking forward to leaving our apartment (as nice as it is) for somewhere more secluded (aka less hotel-y), something that is ours and where we can be in solitude without having to worry about people up and down the hallways. I know it isn’t as close to school as you would have preferred and it doesn’t yet have the contemporary look we wanted but I’m hoping these things won’t be too much of an issue and that you’ll come to love it as much as I think I will and already do.
This is the first house we are purchasing together and that feels pretty significant – the first official thing we are doing as a married couple!* There has been a lot of changes this year but this house makes it all seem so much more real. We are putting down roots and starting to carve out a more permanent life for ourselves. Because of this, I’ve been thinking about homes a lot more recently. Not just the various kinds of homes we have been visiting and scrolling though on Zillow but the idea of “home” – what it means, how one begins building a home for oneself, etc.
I was 21 when I moved out of my parents’ home. My parents, as you know, are more on the conservative side and my dad didn’t want me living on campus. Now I view living on campus as a safe space for a teenager/young adult to experiment with their own identity and what it means to be away from home but, back then, that wasn’t a possibility open to me. So I didn’t get to experience college away from home until I was almost done with the undergrad. My move to an apartment wasn’t the ideal situation and I never really thought of that place as my own. It was an outer body experience in a way. Everything felt on loan and though I was paying all of my own bills, there was no enjoyment or sense of accomplishment. It did give me a taste of what it meant to be away from home and making my own decisions. I have always been a solitary and introverted person and I enjoyed being home by myself, not having to worry about interacting with others.
After that first apartment, I moved to Syracuse and lived with two undergrads for a semester before once again living alone in my own place. Although it was certainly better than my first apartment in that I felt more free, it wasn’t home. Once again, everything felt on loan and temporary. All the furniture in that apartment had been given to me or I picked it up from the side of the road. I live there as a matter of necessity, not choice, but overall it was fine. Then I moved to Gainesville. Gainesville was rough for a lot of reasons but I also lived in three different apartments during my time there. Each one came with a host of different characters as neighbors. None of the apartments were uncomfortable but neither were they right. When I left SU, my apartment had mice which was I was terrified of but I had managed to get rid of (I think). When I left my last Gainesville apartment, I had just gotten invaded by some German cockroaches which I was desperately trying to get rid of right before the move. I lived in that apartment for two years without any issue and then suddenly, at the end, there were all of these small cockroaches that I couldn’t get rid of even after calling the exterminators twice. It wasn’t that the apartment was dirty – that complex had a host of issues – but, to me, the arrival of the cockroaches just represented exactly what that town had come to mean to me. I felt repulsed by it. The town was overrun with disgusting creatures that I couldn’t kill no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to run and never look back.
I was really happy to get the job in Charlotte when I became ABD. I didn’t care about where I was going, I was just happy to get out of that town and department and start afresh. After having moved so much in Gainesville, I didn’t want to live in another apartment. I was tired of moving and I was finally ready to have a real home. That’s what the Charlotte house represented to me. I had high hopes, so many plans of things to do. I wanted to be able to decorate for holidays and invite my colleagues over. It was going to be a real home. In the two years I was there, I never got to decorate (with the exception of a few inside lights once). Every holiday and significant day passed by without anything to mark the occasion. I feel like I disappointed that house as silly as it sounds. Houses aren’t living, breathing things (or are they? more to be said here later), but I felt like I let that house down by not filling it with happy, wonderful memories, by not giving it life. It deserved to be filled with joy – this to me is what ultimately makes a real home. Our short stay there was the only time that house had the peace it deserved and as a result it finally got the makeover it needed. It even got a wedding! This last part makes me smile, not just because it was such a happy occasion but also because I feel like I finally gave the Charlotte house what it truly deserved.
I was not sad to leave Charlotte. Yes, it is true that we were starting to make the house into our own, but there were all of these remnants of a time before that lingered, invading our time now. I didn’t think it was fair to you – I didn’t want you to come in and help me rebuild. Instead, I wanted to build anew with you and paint our memories, and only our memories, onto every wall. So while I would have liked for our departure to not have been so rushed or sudden, it was a lesson I had to learn. This time I didn’t feel like I was running (despite the circumstances), but rather that I was closing a chapter that was now complete. And that was freeing.
They say “home is where the heart is” but I think it is more complicated than that. At the end of the Hobbit (thank you for making me watch that by the way), Thorin tells Biblo (Bilbo? Bilblio? Booblio?): “Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books, and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people value home above gold, this world would be a merrier place.” (Side note: Apparently, this line was change from the original but even the original works for what I am thinking). Thorin was probably thinking about how we often don’t appreciate what we have and instead become obsessed with always wanting more, but that’s not all it made me think of. The Hobbit, it seems to me, is essentially about this idea of home. Bilbo, complacent and unchallenged, is forced to leave home to grow as person and ultimately returns with more appreciation for his hobbit hole. Meanwhile Thorin and the dwarfs have been ripped from their home and spend the entirety of the film fighting to return. Riverdale presents itself as an idyllic location not just because of its beauty but also because the elves journey far beyond the walls but always return willingly because of the happiness they find there. In the end, Thorin learns that home resides in the dwarfs who have accompanied him on this journey and stood by his side but that doesn’t actually mean the place itself is insignificant.
So much of a person’s life has to do with their relationship to their home as an anchor point. Home is where the heart is, yes, but it is also a physical space that matters because it shapes so much of who we are. How many times have you mentioned the Naperville house as we searched for our home? It was both the memories you had there as well as the actually physicality of the house that became a factor in our search. Even if your memories of the house hadn’t been pleasant, it would still be an important factor for the things you didn’t want which is why I mentioned this idea of anchor. In Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car,” she talks about wanting to escape and of people dreaming big dreams that never get fulfilled because they are confined by their circumstances. Every time I listen to that song, I think of people who never move far from their childhood homes, who yearn to explore beyond those boundaries but who, for a variety of reasons, are trapped. Their feelings about home are as complicated as any of ours are.
We are trained sometimes to be dismissive about material things but maybe this is also a consequence of capitalism – material things are worth a certain number and ultimately replaceable (and should be replaced). We think of things as meaningless but it is amazing how much a physical thing – a thing that we can hold in our hands, that we can touch the contours of and take in its scent – can connect us to so much. It has a history, it carries the story of the people who made it as well as the stories of its owners. This is not unlike the ring in The Hobbit. I know the ring is about how power can corrupt but what the film does well is show how, with the ring, you are connected to so many people. That’s what I meant by the capitalism comment. We forget how things connect us today because we see them as only things. Do you remember when we saw that picture of the original Swarthmore house? How cool was that? That picture was a reminder of all the house has been through. The house tells the story of so many people before it, of all the children who ran up and down those stairs, the many meals cooked in the kitchen, the games played in the yard, etc. Yes, the Swarthmore house in particular was old but any home has a story to tell – of the builders, of the first people who bought it, of all the people who visited. Think of the Charlotte house and how each dent, nick, addition, trimmed tree, tells stories of various moments. That’s quite a beautiful thing.
If there is anything we have learned from Grand Designs, it is that people’s spaces are a reflection of their heart’s desires and who they are. Space, actually physical space, can be transformative. It can make us feel peaceful or anxious, encourage our creativity or suffocate us. Home is not just where the heart is, it is also a physical space that reflects who we are, the story we want to tell, the stories of those before us, and our hope for the future. I am looking forward to a lifetime of creating a home with you whether it be the West Chester house or another one. You, me, and Prem – a family. God, that fills me with so much joy and happiness you have no idea.
Since I have already spent way too long writing this post, perhaps I should end here with these two questions – How do you think living away from home for so long changed you? What is your favorite memory of home?
Love always,
Prea
*Technically not married legally since the court lost our papers and the mayor took so long to get back to us. Luckily, we are making it official on Wednesday and hopefully this time, it will all be confirmed by the courts. STILL NO TAKEBACKS. Update 12/9: It has taken me so long to write this post that we are actually married now.