Saying Goodbye to a Home

Growing up I only moved once, when I was 3 years old, so I don't really remember that transition. Since marrying Steve 8 years ago we've moved 4 times, but this is definitely the hardest. Why...

- This was the house where we brought Isabella and Jack home from the hospital.

- This was the house where we lost our beloved German Shepherd, Princess.

- In this house I saw my Isabella go from a baby to a precious little girl, taking her first steps, eating her first foods, running in the backyard, watering the flowers along the walkway, riding her bike.

- In this house Jack realized what mobility was and enjoyed his new found freedom, ate his first foods, and became so attached to his Daddy.

- This house had the wonderful peach tree in the backyard that gave us some delicious peach cobblers.

- In this house I stepped through the attic floor into our guest bedroom on what was a really bad day.

- In this house I cried with Steve over career disappointments, infertility issues, and the news that we would be separated for a year.

On Monday I will cry as we drive away from our little brick home...



This picture was taken the day we moved in, September 1, 2005.