Home vs. House

VS

We were eating breakfast with Danish friends. They live in the UK. The subject of house vs. home came up. They mentioned that many of their Brit friends think of their houses as investments first and as homes second.

For my first house with my first husband, we had to pass the old lady test. She was in a nursing home and wanted to make sure nice people were in the house. As a young couple expecting their first child, we passed. Little did she know that a few months after moving in, we would be divorcing.

That was never a home. It could have been. A new kitchen and bathroom, replacing the ugly red floor tile, it might have looked like a home where I could nest. But nesting with unhappiness is next to impossible. I did have two happy moments each day: mornings seeing my daughter's smiley face over the bumper guard and at night when I showered and let the hot water melt some of the tension.

We made $3,500 on the house, a fortune in 1969.

My second house was a handyman's nightmare, bought at rock bottom prices with two housemates. About five years into restoration, I wanted my own place (read finished). Bought for low five figures Several decades later, it sold for seven. I did get my portion of the value at the time.

I bought a condo that was definitely my home. I loved its bay windows, it's eat-in kitchen and the alcove where I wrote. I would still be there, if I had not moved to Europe. I sold it at double the price. I felt no joy in the profit. Selling it meant a new life, but I had impregnated every square inch with happiness.

When I bought my Nest, an 18 sq.mt. loft studio on a beautiful narrow street in Argelès, France. It was a coupe de foudre. Half way up the stairs, I knew that it was it. I never planned to move. If I wanted to sell now, I would quadruple my money, but it wasn't an investment. Everything in it, is carefully chosen. I never plan to sell. Hopefully, someday my daughter will call it home.

I was right. Happiness was embedded in every brick, tile and beam. When I loaned it to people (I would never charge because money should not be made from happiness) I asked if they had a disagreement take it outside. I didn't want anything negative there. No, I am not a new age person.

Had I not reconnected with the man whom I would marry, I would still be there. The studio was too small for two.

Now we use it as a guest room and rent a bigger flat that is indeed a home. We've carefully selected almost everything in it, some times at vide greniers, sometimes at depot ventes. As I walk through the rooms, my eyes settle on happy memories. Each day we make new happy memories.

I had a friend from when I lived in Germany. She married an American. When they were building a house, she wanted the kitchen counters a little lower. Like me, she is undertall. The builder warned it might hurt resale. She didn't care. She had years of kitchen comfort. I don't know how potential buyers felt about the waterfall/pond in their bedroom. It doesn't matter. They loved it.

My husband, when he lived in the US, was like many Americans, thinking of investment when he bought a house. He upgraded more than once which meant he always had a current mortgage. Had he stayed in one place he would have had a paid off house. That is neither here nor there, because he moved overseas. He is somewhat reformed in thinking of the importance of home over house.

A home, where you live and love, where you find comfort and joy, where you build memories, is an investment in the quality of life. There's nothing wrong if the monetary value increases, but life is too short not to have an emotional refuge first. Everything else is detail.