Whenever we talk about moving (even though we're talking someday way off in the future), I feel this pang in my heart. Even the thought of leaving this house makes me homesick. I wish there were a way to take it all with me when I leave someday, because the memories fade with time and pictures don't quite capture it the way it is. There's just an emptiness you have to work around until the homesickness subsides, I suppose. Sigh.
I don't know how I'll cope with leaving someday (poorly, I assume). How do you leave your first home together, the place where you spent your pregnancy and brought home your baby, where first steps were taken and first words were spoken? The first place where you got to paint the walls and decorate a nursery and host a grown-up Thanksgiving? Where you planted a garden and strung up Christmas lights and brought home a puppy? Where you celebrated birthdays and anniversaries and holidays for years? How does anyone do it without falling to pieces?
|We moved in exactly one year before Lucas was born. It was in the middle of a terrible snow storm. The cat did not cope well. We brought a Christmas tree and no furniture except our mattress. One of our best days ever.|
|This big fabulous kitchen is the reason we bought this house, no lies.|
|When we move, we'll probably buy a larger bookcase, but I sort of love the books piling all over the place.|
|Lucas likes to steal our honeymoon album off this table and look at all the pretty pictures of Hawaii.|
|Our room after its remodel is one of my favorite places to relax.|
|Our front yard is lined with petunias, my Mother's Day gift from Lucas and Rob.|