My first place…

The first thing Charley and I bought together was a ridiculously expensive stained glass window.  It was in an antique shop in Old Ellicott City, MD, and the blue pieces of glass were/are original to the window. Maybe the rest of the pieces were missing or broken.  But at any we loved it, and it signaled that we were going forward together. That was close to 40 years ago now, and it’s moved with us since then, so it has hung in various spots over the years.  But mostly it was in the upstairs window of the den of the house we lived in for over 30 years.  Many more years in that one house than I lived in my hometown, which was a stunning realization when it hit me.  Yet I left that house behind without looking back, but I’ve never been able to leave my hometown behind.  I’ve lived a lot of places in my life, but none of them have been ‘home’ to me, despite my penchant for fixing them up.  I had considered selling it, the stained glass window I mean, but I knew that I’d never get the crazy price we paid for it.  And during the time it hung in that upstairs window, the one with a window seat below it, our cat, Hobo, used to reach up and dig his claws into the window frame for a nice stretch.  And so they remain there, his claw marks forever part of our history.  So I fix up my place and make it all cozy for myself.  This is the equivalent of my first apartment, the first place I’ve ever made for myself alone.  In a place I never expected to be.  You don’t usually furnish your first place with a lifetime’s worth of treasures.  Treasures that hold memories, and bring them to life when you look at them.  My ‘first’ place may be my last place, and it may just be home…