THE BLOG

Home Sweet Home: Everyone Should Have a 'Tara' of Their Own

06/30/2010 01:04 pm ET | Updated Nov 17, 2011

I'm sitting outside in my yard drinking a cup of coffee. I look at the trees and see them dancing to the tune of a morning breeze. The sun, not wanting to impose, softly caresses the pink flowers standing guard behind my Buddha water fountain which offers the humming birds a place to quench their thirst.

I always refer to my house as my "Tara." In the classic film Gone With The Wind, Scarlett O'Hara drew her strength from her plantation, Tara. I'm sure, as it is with me, it wasn't the structure of the house or its riches that made Scarlett endure anything and everything to save her house. It was, as it is with me, because her house was her home.

When I was three years old my parents took a trip to Europe, from Brazil, and left my grandmother, who lived with us, to take care of my sister and me. One weekend an aunt came by and took me to stay with her for a couple of days. When she brought me back, I kissed the furniture, my sister, my grandmother and kept repeating: "My house, my little house, my sister, my grandmother."

When I was six years old I had a recurring dream that lasted until I was nine years old. In my dream, I would take a pill and shrink down to doll size and enter a house I kept hidden in my closet. Inside the house, I had toys, clothes, games and people that kept me entertained until I had to go back to "normal" life. For that I would take another pill and return to my normal size.

When my late husband Chris and I left for Jacksonville, Florida, in the hopes of a liver transplant, he said he was afraid he would never come back home. I promised him, he would come home on his own two feet.

A couple of months later we made it back with a new liver. Chris and I kissed our front door. We were home. We got married, redid our yard, and built an office for me. We were back at nesting.

A home has always been important to me. It means a place where I feel cuddled, loved and supported.

I've had bigger and richer places than my home now but to me they were just structures. They demanded attention and energy and gave nothing in return.

My home today is where I am comforted, my dogs run around, and I get inspiration to live. My home came from love and lives on in love. Everyone should have a Tara. The size doesn't matter as long as we made it ours so we can let our hair down and be safe.

For more of Deborah Calla's writing go to www.theloveprojectinc.com

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