Home. A four-letter word that can invoke so many feelings. A place of childhood memories, family traditions, laughter and love. A place of entertaining, good food, good friends and the best’s night sleep you’ll ever have. A place of security, new beginnings and new adventures. A place of comfort and peace. Home is where the heart is. While I am so excited to move into our new home, I am also having increasing feelings of nostalgia about leaving our current one.
This was my home of ‘firsts’. The home where my husband made me dinner when we were first dating (I remember the meal like it was yesterday: grapes, wine, white and milk chocolate chunks to start followed by grilled chicken kabobs, vegetables and salad), the home where he first said ‘I love you’ to me as we stood in the kitchen, the home we shared all of our dreams, goals, fears and innermost secrets, the home where we had our first fight (and make up), the home that we cooked together, danced together, laughed so hard we cried together in, the home snuggled on the couch night after night in, the home we welcomed our daughter into, the home where we were grew our garden (that I will desperately miss!) and fruit trees (and these too!) and the home that even though was solely my husband’s before we got married, feels just as much mine as his.
Leaving our current home feels like I’m leaving a piece of me with it. A piece that has experienced so many incredible memories in it. While I’ll always carry those memories in my heart, it’s hard to leave the place that created them. I will never forget cooking dinner and dancing to One Republic’s ‘Feel Again’ in the kitchen with my husband or playing peek-a-boo through the living room curtains with my daughter. I’ll never forget the moment I took that pregnancy test and running up to tell my husband ‘we’re pregnant’ or even the simple moments like doing the dishes in the kitchen and watching my husband out the window cutting the grass or working in the garden. These are just some of the reasons I will always love my first home.
So as we pack up of our home of ‘firsts’, I smile through a few tears feeling blessed for all God gave us here. I know future blessings and memories await us, and I welcome them with open arms.