In 23 days we'll sign some papers and our house will no longer be our home. It will belong to someone else. Strangers. We'll pack up our things in brown, cardboard boxes and movers will come take all our furniture and possessions away. And these strangers will move their belongings in. They'll shower in our bathroom. They'll break bread with friends in our kitchen. Maybe their dog will run around in our yard.
The place we've called home for over 5 years will be missed.
It was the first home my husband and I bought together. It feels like yesterday that we giddily left the closing attorney's office with keys in hand, in disbelief that we just bought our first home.
It is where we spent the very early years of our marriage and learned to be husband and wife.
It is the place we left in the middle of the night in November of 2010 as husband and wife, only to return 2 days later a family of three.
It holds the living room where Lukas took his first steps.
It is the place where I snuck in Lukas' room in the middle of the night in July of 2013 to give him one last kiss before he was no longer an only child.
It is the only home our boys have ever known.
Its rooms have been painted by our hands and those of our family. Its porch was screened in by my husband and his father. Its kids' room has been enriched by built-ins made from scratch from my husband and his father. Its windows are all adorned with custom-designed and sewn treatments from my mom. Its backyard was designed and executed by my good friend. Its flowers bloom from our planting.
Its four walls have been filled with more love than I knew was possible.
I'm having a hard time letting go and feeling very emotional about saying goodbye. I know in my heart that it is time. I know that moving to a new house is best for our family. I know that we will fill whatever new house we find with joyous memories. I know that another house will become our home.
But I'm still sad about parting ways.