Thursday, January 31, 2013

A House is Not a Home

We interrupt this previously uninterrupted streak of no posts with news from the home front.

July 1996

I met Shelby and the Wenzel family when I was 6 years old. Shelby and I were in the same kindergarten class at Fammatre Elementary. I was in the group that came early and left at lunch, she was in the group that came at lunch and left in the afternoon.

July 1995

She quickly became my best friend, her in her cow-print cow girl outfit and me in my denim with pink and white lace one. We played dolls, read books and even got put on time out for playing with the dinette station when we were supposed to be outside.

Half-way through the year, I was playing in my backyard when I heard a familiar voice coming from over the fence. I said, "Hello? Is anyone there?" I waited. A minute later I heard the rustling of a tree, and a small head popped up. It was Shelby.

We discovered that day that our backyards shared a fence, our houses were right behind one another. You could imagine our little girl giggles and big smiles upon this discovery. Sleepovers commenced, play dates were planned and memories were made.

December 2007
If she wasn't at my house, I was at hers. I would ride to school with her some days, and some days she would ride with me. Her mother was listed as one of my emergency contacts at school, as my mom was one of hers.

2007
I have fond memories of the Wenzel casa. Lots of photos and moose and Mary Poppins memorabilia (Sally is a huge fan) to make things cozy. The Wenzels invited me into their family. Taking me shopping with them, and to the movies, and letting me hang at their home all day, only to climb up a tree, at the end of the night, and over the fence to reach my backyard and thus my bed. We half-joked for years about putting in a gate between our two houses.

Shelby told me a couple of weeks ago that her family is moving, that their house had sold, and that they'd be out soon. I was momentarily gutted. For my friend, at the loss of her childhood home, I know the sadness that comes with this, having left mine. Gutted for her family. And selfishly, a little gutted for myself.

TheWenzel home saw my crew through many dances, hang outs and sleepovers.We swam there every summer and watched movies inside every winter. It was my second home. I knew where all the bowls and cereal were, and felt absolutely comfortable taking anything I wanted from the fridge, or a treat from the garage.

Senior Prom May 5, 2007

Senior Homecoming October 2006

Senior Prom May 5, 2007

Her dad is a big, tall man that used to intimidate me. Shelby told me he liked to be called Mr. Wenzel. So that's what I called him. Until over the years he became less of a Mr.Wenzel and more of a Frank. To this day, I'm not sure if I've ever called him Frank to his face, but he's been Frank in my mind since I was a little girl.

The Wenzel house was our spot.

If he likes you, you know he likes you. He always made me feel like it was a treat, me being over at their house. I'll never forget that.

Her mom calls me "Miss Kristi" and is the nicest lady you'll ever meet. She sewed my costume for Much Ado About Nothing my senior year of high school and I don't think I ever paid her for it. And it had a corset. A corset! She's the best.

I know this is long and rambling, but I wanted to say thank you to the Wenzel family for making my life blessed enough to not have only one great home, but two. You made a young girl feel loved, special, and funny throughout her childhood. I can't tell you the effect that had on the person I've become.

The Wenzel children: Shelby (tall, gray sweatshirt), Paige (middle, pink sweatshirt), and Shane (right, gray sweatshirt)

A house is just a house. A pile of wood and nails and concrete. It's nothing special. Houses are everywhere. Homes are a little more rare. It's the people that make a home. The Wenzel's are good people, and I know their next house will be a just as lovely home as their first, and when I get back in July, I'll be stopping by, saying hello, scoping out where the cereal is, and inviting myself to Thursday Chinese Take-out Night. I love you guys, and thank you for loving me.