Monday, June 13, 2011

Feeling Nostalgic

Let me start by explaining my house. It's less than 1000 square feet. 2 bedrooms. 1 (very small) bathroom. A living room that doubles as a dining room because we have to eat on the couch. A small kitchen. And a side room big enough for a washer and dryer, but only if you stack them. Sound small? That's because it is. But, when I bought it in 2007 it was just single me & my trusty dog, Loela. It was all we needed. Enter cat loving boyfriend turned fiance turned husband, 1 child and 3 cats and we outgrew this house before we could blink. And being so close to Detroit with the economy being like it is, the neighborhood is leaving more & more to be desired.

So when we started looking to buy a new house I was excited. When my sister offered to sell us hers, I became ecstatic! I thought for sure that the only tears I'd shed come moving day were ones of joy to be moving forward. But here I am, less than a week before the move and I am a mixed bag of emotions.

It's sinking in that this is the 1st house I ever bought. And I did it on my own. And I lived on my own. I hated it. But I did it.

I planned a wedding right here in this living room. I got married and moved my husband into my our house. We started our lives together here. Planned for our future here. Fought here. Made up here.

And the parties. Have I mentioned the back yard is a double lot so it's friggin huge and perfect for bonfires?! Man, did we throw some parties. Bon fires in the back. BBQ'ing in the garage. And at one point, the spare bedroom wasn't known as the nursery, it was the beer pong/tippy cup room. We could throw a mean party.

So, as I pack up on my belongings into a surprisingly small amount of boxes (not sure what I expected, you heard how tiny my house is! not like there's room for much) I feel a sense of sadness. Of nostalgia. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy as a pig in shit to be moving. I couldn't have gotten a better house or a better deal. But, I have to admit that this house will be hard to leave.

Above all, it's going to upset me to leave behind the memories surrounding Lily. I vividly recall changing the beer pong room to a nursery. Steve pulling up the carpet. My dad laying the carpet and painting the room. He came while I was at work and did it for me and even painted the rim of the light fixture green to tie in the green walls & contrast the white ceiling. Then just the week before Lily came (not that we knew it at that time) he came over to help me put the finishing touches on the room. Hanging pictures and putting up decals on the walls.

 Lily's first smile, laugh, words, steps, were all taken right here in this living room. This house will always echo her giggle and the pitter patter of her feet. But the new owners won't know to listen for it. They won't know the life and love that was created by this family. They won't know that we've left a small piece of ourselves behind as we move foward. A piece that I cannot pack into a box no matter how hard I try.

And believe me.


I've tried.

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