There’s No Place Like Home

I’ve always believed that our surroundings shape the way we feel, but recently I had the chance to really live that truth. For the past couple of years, my husband and I stayed with one of our daughters. Her home was lovely—thoughtfully decorated and full of beauty—but it wasn’t mine. The colors, the art, the little details that tell a story… none of them reflected who I am. At first it didn’t seem to matter, but over time, I felt a little piece of myself fading into the background.

What I discovered is that the things we surround ourselves with—the textures, the tones, the familiar treasures we’ve gathered along the way—become part of our identity. Without them, I felt untethered. But recently, when we moved into a rental while we wait for our forever home in Colville, something shifted. As I unpacked my own things and filled the rooms with pieces that felt like me, I felt a spark of joy and creativity return.

It reminded me all over again of this simple truth: there really is “No Place Like Home”.