Pleasant View Antiques in Newville, PA

Recently my best friend of nearly 50 years sold her parents home. In fact, closing was just a few hours ago. Over the last few weeks she and I spent time together in the place we called home pouring over boxes of photos and such giggling, crying, and remembering her parents. So many moments shared over a lifetime in one place. Shared experiences with people who I was lucky enough that they considered me family and let me be a part of their lives. Her parents found each other near their hometown in northern Pa, got married and built the beautiful rancher back in the 60’s in Boiling Springs. As we were packing up a lifetime of memories, we found the photo taken in the front yard the very day her parents brought her home from the hospital. (the smiles in that photo were sheer joy and her Mom looked like Jackie Kennedy even after just having a baby!) We found another photo of all the kids sledding down the hill next to the home—smiles abound on their saucers and lightning guider sleds. The next photo we found was taken in the basement, a room full of hunters on that beloved first weekend of deer season in Pa (family holiday here!). All of the men decked out in the familiar red and black checkered woolen suits and orange. Another photo was of her Dad holding the grandchildren on his lap in their sunroom.

As we filled bin after bin with family items, I couldn’t help but feel this giant sense of sadness. Was the sadness of a feeling letting go of that sense of home? Or perhaps it was we were just missing days and people of years gone by? Her family’s home is one of the last houses that remained of our childhood. Both of us having lost our parents—even at 56, the feeling of sadness is there but so was the sense of home. As I drove home that evening reflecting on the many moments shared there, my thoughts turned to the new family moving there in the next few hours. The new owners must have felt that sense of home too. There is no doubt in my mind they felt that comfortable sense of home the minute they walked in the front door. If her Mom was there she would have welcomed them with a ton of food and maybe her special recipe iced tea. She would love that the home will again be shared by a young family. What joy they will find there in the years to come. The new owners are so lucky to find this happy home.

As I plopped into bed here at Herron Cottage, the house was warm and familiar. The dog was asleep on the bed despite my husband’s chagrin. That sense of home filled my heart. I’ve researched the families that called Herron Cottage home over the years. Their happiness is still here. We could feel it the moment we first toured it just 2 years ago. So maybe home is really just a feeling absorbed into the walls and fabric of a home and clearly in your heart. Maybe it is that sense of joy a child brings to a young family. Maybe it is the feeling of anticipation waiting for your son to throw open the door and say, “Mama! I’m home!” (my youngest , Joey does this still at 24 and it makes my heart sing) Maybe, just maybe it is the feeling of being in a place that fills and feeds your soul. Yes, that is the place to call home. May you find your sense of home. Come visit us, we are happy to have visit.