I'm a dreamer. I always have been. As a little girl, I did nothing but dream about life as a grown up. Being a Mom. Being a wife. I'd look around and snag ideas from the people around me. "Oh, look. They have four children. Everyone has a friend. It's an even number. I like that. I think I'll have four children." Things like that.
One of the things that appealed to me was having a house. A home. That my kids could grow up in. Leave their memories in. Bring their kids to. As my kids grow, I was feeling the pressure of this dream. My inner desire to provide that stability for my children. And I began to fear it was slipping through my fingers. Until Tuesday.
Welcome to my home. This is the home my children will grow up in. This is the home they will bring their kids to. This is our home. Isn't it lovely? And it's ours.
Thanks to the help of my wonderful uncle, my biggest dream, hope, desire, has been fulfilled. He's my dream master. I had the dream and shared it with him. And he helped it to come true. None of this would have happened without him. He's a great teacher and pecan farming partner. And I feel so blessed to have someone like him in my life. And thanks to him, my heart is home.