The House We Built

We knew it was time to move on, but that doesn't mean we will ever forget the house we built. I don't mean built in the construction sense. Although we did buy the house new, we didn't have it built or pick out it's colors or location. It was sitting empty for months, waiting for us to find it.

Five and a half years in the long run will probably feel like such a small slice of the pie. But those years were magical years.

I brought three new babies home to this house. Four of them learned how to walk here. Four of them learned how to ride a bike here.

The faded yellow paint stain on the carpet in the school room was from Adelia. The dent in the wall at the bottom of the stairs is where Ruby and Ollie loaded the Tonka Truck up with magnatiles and pushed it over the edge to save them a few trips up and down. The ding on the front rain gutter is from a neighbor's tumbling trampoline on a windy night and all Aaron and I could do was watch out the window and is came closer and closer.

I remember the yard when it was nothing but dirt and potential. I remember longing for grass. And a fence. I planted every thing on the lot that is growing (except the weeds), I chose every tree, every bush, every edible, I even chose the variety of grass. I could tell you all of them, and why I chose them, and when. I could tell you the plans I had for things I hadn't planted yet.

I could show you where three pets are buried.

I don't know if I will ever know another house the way I know this one.

Farewell, my friend. You've been good to us. I hope we never forget.