From the editor


I sit down and feel the worn smoothness of the sheet as my fingertips pass over it and take in the flicker of memories this piece of woven cotton presents to me in this moment. We got this sheet before we were married as a wedding gift. The day before our wedding my friend Mere came over with me to make our bed with it for the first time; it was crisp and new then, holding the freshness of a blank slate. Kendall and I have been married now 11 years. We have snuggled under it next to open windows, feeling the fresh air blow in 3 different states. It has been picnicked on, brought camping, slept upon in a 3 day drive across the country, and used to cover furniture during moves. Since the birth of our son, it has been crawled upon, forted under, and has nestled his sweet little body. These are the things that make our home. Physical objects that we attach ourselves to. My husband’s coffee thermos, distinguishable from mine by its dents, lets me know that he is home when I see it appear on the counter at the end of the day. Our home is full of these items and these items full of memories, full of our life; we use them to tell our story.

We bought our first house in November and we have been painting, tearing down walls, dreaming, and unpacking in the weeks since. We are in the midst of rooms getting settled, only to become unsettled again as we sift through more boxes. Steadily though, this house is transforming and becoming our home. From the boxes we pull books, plates, stuffed pals, scissors, and pots and pans. Finding a place for each and as we do our house takes shape. Our eyes see the familiar and our minds ease.

This move has been two years in the making, but it has really been longer than that. Kendall and I have moved 9 times since we married and as a growing weariness developed to our vagabond life and a deep, almost desperate desire grew to be home, we began to search. The past two years have been filled with soul searching conversations, reality checks, and travel as we sought out where we would put down roots. Home has permeated our minds and conversations. Finding our way home was a long, thoughtful, and trying process and through it we better know ourselves, each other, and our family as a whole. We dreamed, fought, and figured stuff out. We got on the same page. We became more home to each other. When we bought this house a good friend said that it was about time we landed.

While we have found that Home is a lot of things to us, what it is most is each other. As we prepared for and as we are now settling into our physical home, a big transition in so many ways, we are each soothed knowing that the real core of our home remains steady. Yes, our belongings came with us, enough memories encapsulated in physical entities to fill the largest U-haul. But this home for us is more than all the physical things, it’s what they represent. Home is the place we get to share life with those most precious to us, it’s each other.