I Love My Home

We have lived here among the Jemison people and found them kind and good. We have bought us a nice home. I don’t like Jemison, but I love my home. It is a comfort to have a nice home, a place where happiness reigns supreme. - Frances, October 1891

Every year, on November 1st, I get a little sad. Once Halloween is over, most people skip right on over to Christmas, missing Thanksgiving entirely. The stores fill with red and green decorations, the movie channels switch to snowy scenes, and almost every TV commercial includes some part of the Nutcracker music. But what about Thanksgiving??

I love Thanksgiving because of the strong ties to family and tradition. Growing up, we always gathered at a family home to celebrate. First, it was my Grandmother’s house in Tuscaloosa - sitting down at the big dining room table. Then my Aunt’s house in Montgomery - taking the family photo on the deck. And my Aunt’s house in Atlanta - snacking on appetizers in the sunroom. A home holds memories like no other place.

From her diary entries, it sounds like Frances struggled with living in Jemison. She never goes into detail about why she doesn’t like Jemison, but she frequently describes her home as a source of comfort and relaxation. She raised her family in that house, and she always felt safe there. Even when the future looked uncertain, she had her home.

There is something wonderful about having a secure, safe place to call home. This Thanksgiving season, as we dust off the family recipes, let’s take a moment to remember the places of our past. Sometimes, home really IS where the heart is.