“Homes hold the first steps of our babies. The height marks on the wall showing how tall our kids grew. The kitchen where grandma taught us her secret recipe. The living room where we celebrated every milestone. That photo album we inherited when our parents passed. The artwork our kids made in kindergarten. The things money literally cannot replace.”
—Luvvie Ajayi Jones
Reading about the devastating losses from the fires in Los Angeles has made me appreciate my home all the more.
It was a piece by Architectural Digest’s West Coast editor (excerpted below) that prompted me to write last week’s post on “What Home Means to Me.”
Here’s what he wrote (with bold emphasis by me):
“Los Angeles has been my home for nearly 20 years, and the devastation here, now, is unfathomable. Entire neighborhoods have been reduced to rubble. Houses, businesses, schools, places of worship—all gone, devoured in an apocalyptic conflagration...
I’m thinking about my friends who lost their homes. I’m thinking about houses I’ve written about, now reduced to smoldering ash, and the love and care that went into making them. I’m thinking about the woman I saw on the news describing the home she lost as a “member of my family.” I’m thinking about houses as repositories of memory, guardians of history.…
It’s practically impossible to find the appropriate tone to address a cataclysm like this when your platform is, in the old parlance, a glossy shelter magazine, chockablock with beautiful houses and shiny happy people. But after four decades at this game, I think I have some insight into the meaning of home, which transcends the superficial and the frivolous. Our homes are the frameworks we erect to give our lives structure, meaning, beauty. Through that lens, the scale of loss is incalculable. LA, I love you. 1
—Mayer Rus, Architectural Digest, West Coast Editor
I would add the millions of others around the world who have suffered losses due to war and climate catastrophes. When you factor in all those homes reduced to rubble — all those height marks, repositories of memory, and guardians of history gone forever — the scale of loss becomes unfathomable.
For those of us blessed to have a roof over our head, perhaps the least we could do is to find ways to love it up.
What is one thing you can do to love up your home just a bit more?
Ahhh 🏡
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Excerpted from “Mayer Ross on Loss, and Living, in LA.” AD's West Coast editor reflects on the physical and emotional impact of the Los Angeles fires.
So true. Our abode, a living breathing being in the make-up of our lives.
Feeling very grateful for a warm home to enjoy. It’s so devastating what’s happening to so many after the fires when the sadness of lost history sets in.