When something or someone matters to us, we give it, or them, a name.
From what we choose to call our children to the names we choose for those children to call their grandparents to nicknames and pet names and everything in between, names are significant.
They mean something.
Or, rather, they should mean something.
I’m big on the concept of meaningful names or, at the very least, putting a lot of serious thought into what to name someone, even something, if it’s important enough.
My husband has named both of the trucks he has owned since we met, and he has always named his vehicles. I never did that until I met him, but I started doing the same thing. It’s a bit amusing to me how the act of naming something can make it that much more personal to me, even though it may already be mine.
As we began discussing building a home from the ground up, I began considering some names for the house.
We’ve jokingly referred to our current house as “the Manor” for as long as I can remember, but the new one…..it deserves something original. Something that was given much thought and consideration. Something special.
The south has many sins to repent for still, but we also have some truly beautiful history as well. Some of the living histories are the historic homes scattered throughout the state, and the families that made them unique.
These homes have names: Mont Royal, Monmouth, Beauvoir, Waverley, just to name a few.
Our home won’t be something taken from the inspiration of Greek architecture. But it will be just as special, just as unique, just as personal as any home built to suit the family that calls it “home”.
It can be easy to overthink a decision like this, but it has been the thinking, the dreaming about this project that has made it already so special.
I believe all 3 of us have our reasons for wanting to build the house, but I know that all 3 of us have spent many an hour daydreaming about how it will look and what it will feel like to be finally settled into something that we built together.
In just considering that, I have decided, as wordsmith of this family, to name our yet-to-be-built home, “The Reverie”.
At this point, it is still only dirt. But I’ve seen some truly beautiful things come about from that soil. Even when the seeds were just taking root and there was nothing yet visible above the ground.
Setback after setback seems to keep our daydream only in our heads and not taking physical shape.
But nothing worthwhile ever came easy. This is no different. And until The Reverie becomes a brick and mortar structure where I can lay my head, it still exists. It always has existed. For a reverie is a dream. And dreams survive setbacks, disappointments, doubt, and obstacles. That’s why they’re special.
That’s why we have them.