Several years ago, I found myself reminiscing as I stood at the sink making the usual preparations for another of our annual Family Days. As our family has grown and flown, so to speak, we find it more difficult to gather all at once, and yet the effort continues to be made. We usually find at least a day or two we can all overlap and gather to share memories and just enjoy being together! Every year, there are more reasons to be grateful for our love for one another and our ability to share it. Have you ever considered the sounds of your own family symphony?
I remember other times in the past that hail to the times we are soon to have once again....
“Just left the freeway. Home in minutes.”
Nathan’s text set off a familiar flurry of activity as I hurried through the house, eager to complete every preparation before the car headlights bounced off the front windows.
Candles lit.
Check.
Favorite acoustic music playing.
Check.
House straightened.
Check.
Dinner on the stove, cookies in the oven.
Check. (It smelled wonderful!)
Joy, our youngest, was coming home from a semester abroad, her first stint to be overseas by herself for four months. Joel and Nate had been dispatched to travel the familiar hour of highway to the Denver airport and had sent the text as soon as they exited on County Line Road, two miles from our home. I had just enough time to light the lantern at the front door and write “Welcome Home, Joy!” on the small slate board in chalk colors of red and blue.
Standing just inside the door, I paused and looked behind me at the waiting house, my appreciation refreshed by seeing it through the eyes of someone who has been away. I so love this place that my family calls home, that embodies so much of what we have come to think of as “the Clarkson ways.”
Each piece of furniture, each architectural detail, each tradition and ritual sings to us of beauty, safety, and growth—and of the vision, planning, thought, and artistry that went into fleshing out the vision of home that captivated me from the very beginning.
Even as an orchestra needs a conductor to choose the music, lead rehearsals, and unite all of the instruments into a harmonious sound, so every home needs someone who conducts what I call the life music of a home—its atmosphere. The one who conducts is responsible for bringing out the swelling themes, the steady bass notes, the drama of percussion kept in its place, the soaring melodies and intricate counterparts—all the instruments sounding together in a symphony of grace.
In our home, for the most point, the conductor of life within its walls is me. This is the role I have chosen, the role that suits me best, though my husband, Clay, adds his own unique rhythms and melodies and the whole family helps perform the ultimate creation of our shared life. And even as an orchestra must practice the music—with mistakes and interruptions scattered along the way—so our home building has been a process that will take a lifetime to perfect.
