Another goodbye

Today feels like too momentous a day to let pass without reflection.  This morning I said goodbye to my childhood home.  My parents bought it 23 years ago, at the end of my fourth grade year, so the majority of my years growing up (especially those that I was old enough to remember) were spent here.

Picture of the house the spring we moved in

As I walked around the nearly empty house last night and this morning, I found myself remembering the different ways the rooms looked over the years.  Where the piano was before and after our move to California.  How the family room furniture was arranged the morning I came home from school early to watch the coverage of the 9/11 attacks.  Where the family computer was and how I could hear the screeching of the AOL dial up over the sounds of brushing my teeth.  And of course my bedroom, which had countless permutations because rearranging my room was a thing for me.  It was in that room where I struggled with middle school angst, my scoliosis, high school boyfriend drama, college applications.  It was in this home that I completed countless hours of homework at the kitchen table while my mom worked away in the kitchen (as if I wondered where I got that habit from!)  It was in this home that Hubby T and I had dinner on our first date, where we planned our wedding, where I had my miscarriage, and where we brought our children to know their aunt and grandparents.  Life has been well lived in this home.

One more run through the backyard, which I think is what they will remember most about this house

When I was growing up, a sign hung on our wall, "Home is where the Navy sends you."  Considering we moved four times by the time I was six this made sense to me.  That sign disappeared somewhere along the way, maybe when my dad retired and this place could stay our home, until the time came to move on, which is now.  I hope the family who moves in here builds a wonderful life, as we did.

Trying to make mommy feel better as we said goodbye

For now I am anxious for the sting of saying goodbye to fade, comforting myself with happy memories, the peace and joy I have in my own current home, and the wise words of Miranda Lambert, "Won't take nothin' but a memory from the house that built me"