The day our house burned, during that virtual walk down memory lane, no one asked about the wall of volcanic rock. Nobody mentioned the low ceilings, the lack of windows, the endless carpets, the slant in the floors etc. Of course that wouldn't have been polite, but I'm sure it didn't even occur to anyone, if they even ever noticed. I bet most of the people who were welcomed there over the years were focused on being with friends and having fun.
My dad had a saying to describe what mattered and what didn't. It'll burn" he'd say to dismiss something that wasn't worth stressing about. I fretted and clucked over all the ugly finishes in my home for so many of the years we lived there and spent thousands and thousands of dollars making it as beautiful as I dreamed it could be, and in less than an hour it was consumed by fire. What survived was destroyed by water and smoke. I wish I had spent less time worrying about what my house looked like and more of it purely enjoying my family and all the people we welcomed there. I did get that right. Just as my parents showed me, and despite my concerns, I did fling open our doors and allow my home to be a haven.
It's so easy to get hung up on how we want our house to look. It's tempting to think we can't have anyone over until it looks just so, but I'm here to tell you, whatever it looks like; your nightmare or your dream; it could all be gone in a flash. But if we open ourselves, the memories we make can outlast us.