as a result of writing this column i got on the mailing list of gray matters, a quarterly senior publication put out by ssm (saskatchewan seniors mechanism). the latest issue raises, and tries to answer, the question: what is home? what makes a place “home”?
so how would i answer this question? what makes my place my home?
i have lived in my apartment for many years and so got accustomed to my surroundings. yet each room, each corner has a special meaning that is important to me. wherever i look, each piece has a story to tell.
even the couch in the living room seems to say, “remember when?” in another smaller apartment the couch did double duty, opening up to serve as my bed at night. above the couch hang two beautifully framed paintings, each depicting a hungarian country scene of meadows and horse-drawn carriages.
ah, hungary! when my parents joined me in canada in the 1950s, my father was extremely homesick, so he decided to make our home into a “little hungary” to ease the pain of leaving. in the kitchen, to this day, hang wooden spoons and ceramic plates hand-painted by hungarian artists. also arriving from hungary were colourful embroideries, fine herend china pieces and stacks of books by hungarian authors ordered yearly by father which still fill two bookcases.