Once during a rare solo shopping trip to TJ Maxx, I came across a small sign that read, “Home is Where Mom Is.” I immediately threw it in my cart without even checking the price tag. Normally, I’m very cautious about what I spend, but this time, I knew this sign just had to come home with me. (I did breathe a sigh of relief at the checkout when I discovered the low, low price of $4.99.)
At home, I hid this under my bed for four months so I could wrap it as a gift for my own mom at Christmas. I’ve bought my mom nice, pricey gifts over the years. A new vacuum, a KitchenAid, jewelry, etc. But this—this gift touched her heart in a way that made it so much more special than any other gift I could have given her.
Home is where my mom is.
Sure, I’m married with children and I have my own home, but my mom has created a safe haven at my childhood home. No matter when, for any reason, I can return and know I will be enveloped in comfort. I can walk in without knocking, raid the fridge, borrow tools, utensils, crafting supplies, whatever the need may be. I can bring my kids when they just need somewhere else to hang out. I can come home when I need a shoulder to cry on.
My mom is always there with arms open wide. And on her mantle will forever sit one of her most treasured gifts.
It will serve as a reminder to me that no matter what I face, I can always come home to her.
Our relationship has had its ups and downs over the years, but one thing has always remained—her love. Her everlasting, unconditional love.
It will serve as an encouragement to create that same environment for my own children. May they find comfort in knowing that wherever I am, they have a home. That wherever I am, they may find happiness, memories, love, comfort, understanding, and sympathy. When they go out in the world to pursue their dreams, face their fears, and grow their lives, home will provide solitude, a resting place.
May they storm in without knocking.
May they use my shower when their hot water heater is broken.
May they borrow my vacuum when there’s stopped working.
May they throw their parties under my roof because their home is too small.
May they enjoy Sunday dinner at my kitchen table.
May they bring their kids over for a visit.
May they come when they need guidance or encouragement.
May they find home where mom is.
As I always do when I seek my own mom.