Our old piano bench sits waiting for the Christmas tree to takes its place. It soon will be off to the upholsterer for a new plump cushion in an updated color. 
On this dreary Halloween, though, I linger a while at it, running my hand over the worn spots where we sat for hours. Sometimes, just Rob, practicing Chopin or enjoying contemporary favorites, other times with a child in his lap and another by his side, banging out Beauty and the Beast along with some great impersonations of Gaston!
This morning I had the strangest longing to slip in next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and listen to him play “O (Fly On).”  Rob would have channeled his best Chris Martin and I would have tried to join in harmony. 
Rob did not make it long enough to hear Coldplay’s haunted “Ghost Stories,” but I know he would have immediately sat down to play this song after hearing it for the very first time...by ear, of course...
And I would have fallen in love with him all over again!
Yes, Rob, maybe one day I’ll fly next to you. 

Fly on. 

A flurry of furniture deliveries monopolized this week. With each new arrival, the house begins to look more like a comfortable home. My etagere for the den, the final big purchase, arrived yesterday afternoon. I am ecstatic! It's a really cool piece made of rosewood and rebar in Indonesia. The perfect home for my pottery collection.
I really love how the house is shaping up, a totally new look and feel to it.  Of course, I still need art on the walls, rugs on the floors and drapes covering the windows, but it's feeling like home...my home.
Even with all of the excitement, I've battled some guilt. Rob was never able to experience the remodel that we planned. He just worked, putting money away for the new purchases. Even that effort was barely realized as insurance has funded most of it. 
But this I know, Rob has no desire to return to his former home, to be here on Earth...in this house...with me. Scripture makes me believe he longs for his family to join him, but he has no desire for his old life. Sometimes, that stings, but then I rest on where he dwells: Paradise.  No, I do not believe he floats on clouds or plays a harp (maybe a mean piano.) Heaven is a real place with real things to do, an exciting home that defies our wildest imagination. Who in his right mind would exchange paradise for man-made digs? 
This truth triumphs over my temporary guilt and puts all this accumulation of stuff in proper perspective.   
For me, home is where Jesus and his joy resides. Remember, it was not long ago that I found joy and thanksgiving living in the Tuckers' spare bedroom and then, above a kind neighbor's garage.  It's not where, it's with whom! So, I'm reminded not to get too cozy here either; there's a better place waiting for me.

For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.           Hebrews 13:14 NLT

 Friends, this world is not your home, so don’t make yourselves cozy in it.  1 Peter 2:11 MSG