Introducing Homemaker
Answering the questions: What makes a home? How to use design when you’re not a designer. And what does it mean to be home when someone is always missing from the dinner table?
Welcome to the first installment of Homemaker, (previously Loss + Finding Home) an exploration of home & design. Answering the questions: What makes a home? How to use design when you’re not a designer. And what does it mean to be home when someone is always missing from the dinner table?
In an era where you have access to every word ever written, I’m so grateful you’ve chosen to read mine.
Hello Friends,
You might remember that last year we stripped our home down to the foundation and remodeled it from the ground up. I’d hoped to document the process here as a real-time memoir where I explored what it means to make a house a home. I called the project Loss + Finding Home.
I wanted to go deeper than aesthetics and I’d hope to give my readers more than paint swatches and tips for picking out the perfect hardware, but the task proved to be far too ambitious and I didn’t write for several months.
Recently, I re-read a post from early on about how the kids and I spray-painted the original walls before demo day.
When I spelled “The Hendersons were here” in metallic silver paint, I realized why this was so important to me. In the same way you might carve “I was here” into a park bench, I wanted a moment that said, “We were here, and our time here mattered.”
While Aiden was treated in the hospital, each day, the nurse updated our whiteboard with their name, the name of our care partner, and the oncologist on the floor that day. They might also add goals for the day, like take a bath, or beat a fever, or manage pain. They also encouraged us to write down our questions so that we would be prepared when the doctor came through on rounds.
When Aiden died, the staff was so gracious and gave us several hours to say goodbye. Before I left, I grabbed one of the Expo markers and wrote, “Keep moving forward. Thank you for everything. xoxo Aiden.”
I recognize the impulse. I wanted to mark that I was here, that Aiden was here, that we fought with all our might, and that fight mattered. I wanted whoever saw that message to know that though we hate the outcome, we saw them, too. They were right there with us, and what they did mattered. Selfishly, I wanted them to remember Aiden. Children’s Hospital Los Angeles is a busy place, busy in a way you wish wasn’t needed, and Aiden’s room would likely be filled again the next day. I wanted to leave a little reminder in the hearts of the people who knew him.
I added, “Keep Moving Forward,” and when I stepped back, it looked finished, and I felt ready.
Construction was finished in October, we were finally home, and when I came up for air and started writing again again the idea of Loss + Finding Home still called to me. The project of building our home was over, but I wasn’t done with the subject, so I started to kick around some ideas for this section of the newsletter.
A few weeks back, I wrote about my slow walk into the New Year and shared my hesitancy towards goal setting and resolutions in 2025. At one point, I referred to myself as a “homemaker.” At first I bristled at the label, but I’ve come to embrace it.
In my middle years, I’m looking for ways to define myself and what I do, separate and apart from wife and mother. Stay-at-home mom never felt quite right. Homemaker, similar to a phrase like, “more perfect,” implies a forward-looking “becoming,” never to be completed.
When I think about this section of the newsletter Homemaker makes perfect sense because if there is anything I’ve learned about remodeling a home is that it’s never really finished. I hope to bring you more personal stories on home and design that will have you thinking about your own spaces.
I’ll leave you with some words from my last post in Loss + Finding Home
We moved into a space that was not quite finished but wholly ours. I’m taking things slowly and giving myself time to feel settled. For now, it just feels good to be home.
This is where I am today, thank you for listening.
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I loved revisiting your earlier piece 🤍