By the time anyone reads this it will be the day, the day of closing on the house. Tuesday night I took the last load, my mattress and the cleaning supplies that I had left there to give it a last once over. As I scrubbed the tub for the last time, I thought about all of the baths I gave the kids, all the giggles and the splashed walls and when we put that new tub in and how I thought it was so luxurious until I sat in it and it was not even close to a soaking tub. But it felt awesome to me. I looked into the kids room and remember picking out that perfect shade of blue for my sweet Ryan to come home to. And I remember rocking him to sleep in that chair until my alarm woke me up. Walking out of my room for the last time I remember spending weeks painting the walls, getting all the trim bright white, making curtains that still hang there and making it my perfect haven to relax in after a long day. Walking down the steps I clearly remember all of the choo choo rides the kids and I took down the stairs at 6am, already late for work, but needing to take a minute to make sure their day started off in a happy way. I remember standing at the bottom of the steps calling my sister to tell her that Jack was on the way. The entry way reminds me of walking into that house the first time how overwhelming I knew that this was home and this was the house that I would bring babies home to and have parties on the deck. The living room that proudly displayed my grandparents Christmas tree in every corner of the room one year or another and the floor that hosted many campouts. The dining room that eventually turned into the full time play room. Mopping the floor in the kitchen for the last time brought back all of the party prep memories of mopping the floor early into the morning before all of the parties and holidays that we hosted. I love hosting parties and I was always so proud to have people over for a party or family get together. Standing at the sink will forever remind me of the last time I talked on the phone to my aunt before she passed.
I can’t say I didn’t know how great I had it until it was gone, because I did know how lucky I was when I lived there! I loved that house and painted pretty much every square inch of it in the last almost decade that I lived there. I loved eating on the deck after work and showing the kids how to ride bikes in the drive. I love that what started out as a friendly neighbor relationship turned into a second set of parents to me and another set of grandparents to the kids. I love that when the fence fell down, it felt like our yard doubled and it was our collective yard with them and driveway dinners were a nightly tradition when it was warm out. I loved that they could peek into the back window and the kids would go running towards them. I loved the memories of both of my maternity leaves spending so much time at home with the babies and learning to be a mom within those four walls.
I cried leaving the house again because of all the happy times but i know that home is where you make it and we will have another home that feels just as cozy. And I couldn't be happier with the people that will now live there. When I got the offer paperwork I googled them and they look adorable. They have hung in with us on this long process and I know that they are the right people to live in that beautiful house that I was lucky enough to call my own for a while. So this weekend, when they stay at the address that I still write on paperwork as mine out of habit, they will be home, but so will I. Because a home, like life, is what you make it.