As long as your life is filled with stories, heartbeats, friends and lasagna

We have moved back into our former apartment. Even though that wasn't a first hand choice since it created a sense of moving backwards, it showed to be a bit too tricky sorting out other alternatives from Asia and we have now been very happy about keeping the place. We have painted the walls and shifted functions between the rooms. Since we gave away a lot of books and furniture before we left, we are now creating a home based on a few inherited pieces that have been in storage and a few ones we have brought with us from Singapore. 

But a home is not a home until people are filling it with their stories and heartbeats. Having dinner around the kitchen table and drinking coffee in the living room. Sharing the big things or the smaller and just hanging out in the dark evenings when the wind is strong and the air gets chilly. And yesterday was one of those evenings. The kitchen table, that actually is our former sofa table, got new legs and found its natural place in the kitchen corner just two hours before the door bell rang. And then we ate lasagna and apple pie, looked at each other and said that this feels like it always has, yet it is completely new. I like that. It is about moving forward and not letting the similarity in circumstances fool you to believe that things don't change. They do. As long as your life is filled with stories, heartbeats, friends and lasagna, there will always be change and progress. There is no going back.