The House That I Call Home

We’re in the depths of moving here at my house. I’m scrambling to comb through every nook and cranny. I’m a whirlwind of sorting: purging left and right. “Sell this, donate that, throw this out.” And on the craziness continues.

The move doesn’t seem real yet, even with all the drastic downsizing. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet that I’m leaving the house I call home. I’m packing up our belonging and with them our memories. This is the house that taught me so much. This is the house that witnessed our successes and our failures. The walls bare witness to our laughs and our tears. This is the house where I became a wife. This is the house I brought my first child back to. This is the house I call my home, and goodbyes are just not my thing. So, until I ninja across your squeaky floors one last time, I’ll just pretend you’re mine forever.

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1 Comment

  1. Beth, I hope your move went well! It is sad to move from your first home you built together as a family. We currently rent houses, but I can remember the first house we rented which I fell in love with like it was my own. Our landlord decided to sell in, and the day we left I cried so hard because I felt like that was our home and I didn't want to leave it behind. I hope everything went well and you fall in love with your new home!

    Love,
    Nichole Rae

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