Today I had to say goodbye to something very dear to me. My first home.
This wasn't just any home, this was also my dream home. From the first time my husband and I looked at it, I knew it was the house I had always wanted. It was built in 1892 and through a lot of hard work and creativity my husband and I brought it back to its historic charm.
When we had our twins we knew it was time to move on, so we put it up for sale last year and bought a new home on the banks of the Mississippi River. After it was on the market for a while, we decided to rent the home and for the past year we've been blessed to have the renters become very dear friends.
In March of this year we had to get it back on the market and the first person to view it fell in love and will be the new owner as of 9:00 a.m. on June 1st.
The renters are all moved out and last night Hubby and I went over to the house for the last time, by ourselves. We walked from room to room reliving hundreds of memories. We laughed, we cried and we just held each other, knowing that this chapter of our lives is about to close.
When we moved in we were still newlyweds, fresh out of college, with thousands of hopes and dreams to propel us forward. Not knowing what God had in store for us, who could have guessed what wonders we would experience?
Last night, eight and a half years later, we stood in amazement at seeing the Hand of God weave through our lives, marveling at everything He has brought us through and all the memories we have made.
We stood on the front porch and looked out on the lawn we'd spent hours and hours landscaping. In the living room we talked about bringing our first baby home and setting her on the couch, just staring at her. In the dining room we talked about painting the walls when I was pregnant and hosting many good friends and family for supper. In the kitchen we talked about carving pumpkins with our girls and making meals to feed our growing family. In the den we laughed about Hubby's failed attempt at choosing a paint color (I still contend that it should have been called "Brothel Red"). We ran our hands along the banister, thinking about all the times the girls slid down it.
Upstairs we walked through our bedrooms and I stood for a long time in the girls' room, remembering the nights I would lay with one of them while Hubby held the other on the rocking chair and sang lullabies for the three of us. Through words and silence, we cherished eight years of incredible living.
And then I stood at the window in the boys' bedrooms, staring out at our backyard, remembering all the birthday parties and barbecues we had. I could almost see the girls running through the sprinkler and hear their laughter, like a thousand little bubbles floating to the sky and drifting away on the breeze.
A part of my heart and soul will always be in that home, and a part of that home will forever be in me. I don't regret our decision to sell the house for one moment, but it's still heart wrenching to say goodbye.