when a house is a home

for the nth time i've relocated to a new place. when a cousin invited me to have a look at this newly built house, i immediately fell in love. it is small (easy to clean), quaint and away from the usual mad city dwellings. so after two months of preparation here i am in my new abode. it has two rooms downstairs and an attic as big as the lot's perimeter. kit opted to make it as his room so when we transferred
there were still carpenters and electricians doing their thing. a little bit hassle, but its over and done with. let us say its 80% habitable now.
it's just surprising that where ever i am, here or overseas, i am always swamped by friends and visitors. be it by friends, relatives or my family's friends. i always take pride that it is us, they are after and not the house. when we where in tarlac, our house was so old, that you can hear the walls and floors creaking when you walk. it was made of wood, but inspite of the pinatubo eruption, typhoons and earthquakes, it is still standing. that didn't stop people from coming over for a visit. it is always the venue of parties and reunions.
now, just two weeks of being in my new place, i am being swamped again. mostly by kit's friends and a handful of mine. we are planning to have it blessed on the 19th in time for the kadayawan festival. it is also my father in law's 2nd year death anniversary. i am sure papa (god bless his soul) will be happy with the date i chose.
i believe that a house is measured by the people who live in it. it doesn't matter whether it is a castle or a hut but the most important thing is it is a home. that is the difference. a house is a structure while a home is a place where you feel safe amidst a congenial environment. anyway, after all the hoopla of transferring, i still have high hopes that we are going to stay here for good. i mean until i have gray hairs. it is a nice place to grow old and retire and have a scattering of grandchildren perhaps spending their weekends. nevertheless, either you are here or anywhere else, i still know that home is where the heart is. . . . . . . . . .