A Woman Can Only Make A House And Not A Home
I would wake up in the morning, bathe, go to work, and come back in the evening. There was nothing in between. No friends to visit, no place to go, and no relationship to nurture. I lived my life like I lived in a cave. I didn’t see the need to make my bed or arrange the things in my room. You’d find my laundry here, my shoes there, my makeup kits all over the place. Anytime putting my room in shape came to mind, I talked myself out of it by saying, “Who cares? I live alone.”......CONTINUE READING THE ARTICLE FROM THE SOURCE>>>>>
And then he said hello to me at the entrance of the church. His fragrance greeted me long before his words came out. I was going in while he was coming out. When I entered the church, I found an empty seat and decided to sit down. The woman in the next seat whispered, “Someone is in this seat. You can sit in the one next to it.”
That someone whose seat it was came to sit down while our eyes were closed in prayer. Again, his perfume announced his presence before my eyes could witness him once more. It was the same guy I’d met at the entrance. When I opened my eyes, he smiled. I smiled back. He came because of the groom. I was there because of the bride. When I screamed while they were exchanging vows, he asked me, “Are you her colleague at work?”
We talked through the service. We continued talking at the reception because, for some unknown reason, we decided to share a table. We exchanged contacts and became friends.
We met in town often and went on dates until one morning, he called and asked, “I’m thinking of coming over. I’ll bring food so we can cook.”
The first thing that came to mind was to say no, but while my mind was saying no, my mouth said yes. My room was a mess. I quickly got up and started putting things in order. Everything went to where it belonged except those empty spaces in the hall, which I’d never thought to fill because I lived alone.
My TV had been broken for ages. My sister’s kids came over and cut through my sofa. I didn’t repair it. There was a broken door handle and a bathroom door that never stayed shut. I couldn’t do much about these, so he came to meet them like that.
We cooked. He did most of the work. When we sat to eat, he wanted to watch a movie. “My TV doesn’t work,” I told him. He wanted to use my washroom, but the door wouldn’t stay shut. I told him, “I live alone, so I don’t bother about these things, but don’t worry, I’ll have them fixed.”
The first was the sofa. He put it behind a pickup and sent it to be fixed. He carried my TV to a friend who was a repairman. A week later, my TV was on the wall. It used to sit on a table. He started coming over often because we’d started dating. He spent a night with me and wanted to use the toilet, but the door wouldn’t stay shut, so he couldn’t use it.
He came home on a Saturday morning with a carpenter. “We have to buy this and that,” the carpenter said. He gave him money. The door stayed shut when I wanted it to. The TV worked. The sofa was no longer torn. My room started seeing a visitor often, so it was always tidy. When he was around, he made things brand new.
When they said a house was not a home, I understood it perfectly because of him. But then again, I realized that building a home was not a one-woman affair. It’s a job for two—a man and a woman. The door has to stay shut when one is in the toilet and the other is in the kitchen.
After making my little house a home, he decided we needed a bigger one. So I said yes and followed him to a house he’d acquired for us to turn into a home.
Here, everything stays where it’s supposed to stay. I thought I was a lazy woman when I didn’t care to put my house in order, but in marriage, I’ve realized having someone to impress also makes a huge difference. The kids are here. My husband is here. I’m home.