Words–When a House is a Home

WORKING WITH WORDS

We writers consider words as our stock-in-trade; valuable servants to our need for self-expression; treasured allies in our creative pursuits.  They have meanings that give messages; messages that, at times, are subtle or can be misinterpreted or confusing. Consequently they must be treated with care and respect if we are aiming for clarity and impact when we use them.

I learned this lesson many decades ago so let me tell you how it happened.

“A house is not a home.”  My father was adamant.

I must have been about ten or twelve years old; it was a mealtime and I had been sounding off about something or other.  I have no idea what I’d said to elicit this from Dad but my memory of that situation and his response to me is very clear.  He was firm, very firm.  But gently so as he went on to explain what he saw as the difference.

“A house is a building”, he said; “nothing more – bricks and mortar; walls and a roof.  A house is not a home until people are occupying this sheltering structure.  Even then it is not a proper home if those residing there do not care about each other; were not considerate, respectful of each other; welcoming to strangers and willing to share whatever they had, however little that might be.

A shed, a tent or a bark humpy could be just as much a home as a fancy mansion.  Indeed, a fancy mansion where there is no peace; where people are always fighting, abusive, rude, or out to take others down is no home at all.  A place where everything is only for show, designed to impress; aligned to elicit awe and admiration from visitors but is, in fact, a veneer for misery could never ever be a home.”

My parents lived their beliefs and, apart from the values such conversations inculcated in me, this particular episode stuck.  It gave me a great respect for the importance of accuracy in my use of language as well as triggering a lifelong fascination for the subtle differences in the meanings of words.

A few years later, a High School English teacher emphasised the point but in a different way. He was talking about the nature of poetry and told us that, in essence, poetry was:         

“The very best words arranged in the very best order”                                                                                        

As a budding writer I remember thinking, “Surely that applies to anything I write, not just poetry?”  At the time, like Brer Rabbit, I just lay low and said nuffin’ – I was far too shy to question someone I saw as an expert.  But those words stuck and became a guiding light; a light that is far from easy to follow all the time, believe me!!

Many, many years later my sister-in-law, Nancy, completely and unintentionally in this matter of word precision, turned the tables by setting me straight on the use of another word (as well as the importance of care when conversing with littlies). 

This time it was her grandchildren who were involved.  They’d been excitedly telling me about something planned for their father that was to be a surprise.  I’d responded along the lines of “So you’re being careful to keep it a secret?”  At which point Nancy told me that, in their home, they don’t talk about “having secrets”.  It was always “Keep the surprise”.

Discussing it later, out of earshot of the small ones, she told me that they wanted to ensure the children were brought up in an atmosphere where openness was the norm as they felt that “keeping secrets” could lead to trouble down the track. 

Despite my fascination with words and unrelenting passion for accurate usage, it was something I’d never thought of before!  Point taken!  And appreciated!!

Language is communication.  It can be subtle and suggestive.  Words are powerful.  And the implications of those words can be even more powerful.  So it behoves us as writers to consider every word we write with the utmost care – but not in the initial first draft stage where we simply spit out our ideas; get it all down out of our heads and onto paper. 

The “working with words” bit is part of the editing process.  But that is another story for another day.

© Mary McDee 2024

Feature photo: Somerton Park Trust Home © L.M. Kling 2005