HOUSE When Your Home Gets a Present

A while back there was a show on one of the networks featuring stories of old houses. I think it was called “If Walls Could Talk” or something like that. The host would visit a homeowner and the homeowner would share a piece of wallpaper that they found with a signature from someone famous or a shoe they uncovered in a wall of the house of someone who crossed the prairie in a covered wagon or the homeowner would renovate a room and find secret treasure in the wall.

I so wish that show was still on.

Because my house?

It has the stories.

A lifetime of tales of the people who have lived here.

Before us, there were five owners of this house we now live in.

Each of us has left a little mark.

Each of us has lived life to the fullest within these walls.

Each one of us has loved this house to distraction.

And this week? I got an email from one of the sweetest people who grew up in this house. She was coming in to town and she wanted to know if she could stop by and tell the house hello and bring me something.

Something that she wanted to share. Something that belonged to the house.

So yesterday?

The house got a present that looks like this.

It’s a marble garden urn.

It’s vintage.

And aged.

And HEAVY.

And after we lifted it out of her car and she unpacked it and removed the quilted cover that protected it on the journey…..

….I GASPED at how BEAUTIFUL it was.

These pictures do not even do it justice at all. The patina and the finish and the beautiful color and the carved details are absolute perfection.

After we unpacked the urn, we walked around the yard and she told me what was originally planted at the house (including the most amazing pomegranate tree) and I told her about all the plans we have for the garden beds (that I’m going to show all of you tomorrow) and I asked her where the marble urn was in the yard originally.

It was right here.

Right in the center of the backyard where the four sidewalks meet in a circle.

It was the most wonderful afternoon.

She came inside and we talked and talked and talked.

All about this house and how this was the happiest house we’d ever known.

And how much we loved it.

If you’ve owned the house before, you just can’t help but share stories about it.

This is a happy house.

A house full of sunshine. A house where laughter rings through the halls and wise men show up with dishtowels and mirrors have re-written endings and sweet tea tastes even sweeter.

She told me stories about what colors the rooms used to be and how the school bus pulled up outside on the street and what the kitchen used to look like and how the living room was decorated.

I listened with joy.

And then I told them my stories about growing up here and how my mother had decorated it and where my bedroom used to be and the friends that I had over and how I had taken down the wall to the butler’s pantry and the plans I had for the house.

And how I wanted to continue the legacy of the house for my children.

It was a surreal afternoon.

It was amazing.

It was incredible to sit in this living room and share our hearts and our dreams and our hopes contained in all the stories of the house.

I have big plans for this marble urn.

I think it needs a pedestal. I’m actually going to be on the lookout for a vintage base to set it on, but in the meantime, I just ordered this from Amazon to put it on until I can find something vintage.

When my husband got home later, I showed it to him and we walked around the yard and discussed where we should put it and what we should do with it. Should it be a birdbath? Should I add a boxwood topiary to it? Should I add ivy?

And after we walked the yard, we sat on the porch together and chatted with the neighbors walking by.

Another day.

Another chapter in the story of the house.

And this garden urn?

It’s happy to be home.

Just. Like. Me.

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