I want to start out by saying, “I know”. I KNOW you’re not supposed to get attached to material things. But as much as I know that, and even sometimes preach about it to my kids like one of those moms, at this moment, I don’t care.
Tonight is one of the last nights our family will be spending our very first home. The same home my husband and I bought right after we got married and definitely didn’t spend enough time touring before we signed the papers. The home I declared was, “probably too small to be a ‘family home’” about two weeks after we moved in. The same home we recruited our families to and convinced to spend an entire weekend building a fence for just so we could provide a safe home for the dog I convinced my husband into letting us adopt. The very same home that lent the perfect amount of comfort and distance when we experienced a quiet and difficult loss together. And, the same home that proved me wrong when it welcomed us back with love and acceptance as we walked through the door scared and nervous after evolving from “couple” to “parents”, first as a family of three and again a couple years later as a family of four.
And now we have to say goodbye.
If you can’t tell by now, I’m not emotionally (or physically, for that matter) ready to move out of this place. Okay, that’s dramatic. I am ready. It was mostly my idea to leave, and yes, the date has been on my calendar for months, but now that the time has come, I’m feeling every single emotion that exists. This house has seen me at my best. It’s seen me at my worst. And it has allowed us to fill every inch of this place with our things, our chaos and our love.
So, before we leave for good and are off to our next adventure, I want to say thank you to the home that has watched us all grow up.
Thank you to our house, for providing the perfect view, allowing me to watch my husband transform from a trusted partner into the most wonderful father and my children from infants who needed me at every second grow into two perfectly independent little boys.
Thank you for the judgment-free kitchen that witnessed me make and own up to mistakes in recipes, dance moves and decisions in life.
Thank you to our home for providing a floor that was somehow sturdy and soft enough to give my baby boys the confidence to take their first steps.
Thank you to our home, for the roof that kept us all safe, sheltered and at times, kept us grounded.
Thank you for the strong walls of support for times of weakness when each of us just needed someone to lean on.
Thank you to our home for not ratting us out when we decided to cancel plans and just stay in and enjoy the quiet. I appreciate that you know how hard being social can be.
Thank you to our home for never quite being perfectly tidy. Proudly showing off a tiny handprint here or a toy truck shoved into a plant there, to remind me that I have so much to be grateful for outside of an unrealistically clean house.
Thank you to our home for magically expanding to fit all of us when our family grew, and grew….and grew.
Thank you to our home for being the perfect landing pad for each of us when we came back down to earth from our crazy worlds. Welcoming us each back with our own special routines and spots of comfort to laugh in, cry in and be together in.
And finally, thank you to our home for selflessly showing us subtle signs and letting us know it was okay to take the next step into our future together, even if it meant leaving you, our special first home, behind.
Thank you to our first home. I’ll never stop being grateful for the lessons you taught me and the growth you allowed us all to experience – never stepping in to correct us, even when you could have (and maybe should have) more than once. We’ll miss you so much.