A house is not a home


I wonder if I am somewhat unusual but when we moved out of our house a few weeks ago I did not have the emotional response that perhaps would be expected. I had lived there the longest I had ever lived in a house, I had brought up my two children there, divorced, married again, welcomed a step-family into my life and had so many wonderful times there that it seemed odd that I wasn’t in floods of tears as we drove away from the house for the last time. In fact in many senses I had a feeling of relief, not necessarily that I was leaving but that we were leaving it in the hands of another young family, who could and should get the best out of the house as we no longer needed the space that it had and we rarely used it to its advantage in…

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