The past two days have been difficult for me - more difficult than I ever would have imagined. Yesterday my parents loaded a moving truck full of their belongings and left our Milford home forever. Today they turned over the keys to that house and officially gave it away.
Fourteen years ago when we moved into that house, I was furious. I hated the house, and I hated everything about Milford, Ohio because it wasn't what I knew and it certainly wasn't where I wanted to be. Our move from Cary, North Carolina to Milford, Ohio took place during my junior year of high school, and it was absolutely the most difficult thing I've ever had to endure.
I realize now that the move to that house had a huge part in making me who I am today. Had my family stayed in North Carolina like we all wanted to, my life would be drastically different, and I'm sure I wouldn't even recognize myself now. Without that move, I never would have attended Miami University. I never would have met my husband, and we never would have created the two beautiful boys that I now love more than anything in the world.
Ultimately, I am thankful for that move. I'm thankful that I got to spend so many years calling that house "home." My parents are moving to Columbus, which I am happy about. It's closer than Milford (Cincinnati), and now I can visit my parents and my sister all in one place. I'm excited about this new chapter in my parents' lives. But with the change comes a flood of memories - memories that have brought me to tears more than a few times in the past few days. Memories that I ache to hold onto. For myself more than anyone else, I'm making a list of those memories. They aren't ranked in any particular order, just the order that they come to mind.
1. This is the house in which I announced to my family that Logan was going to be a big brother (Christmas 2009).
2. This is the house in which my sister and I hosted Dawson's Creek parties every Wednesday night for our friends in high school.
3. This is the house in which my parents finally let us have a trampoline (our consolation prize for the move), and we spent hours on it with our friends.
4. This is the house in which my mom stayed up and waited for me to come home - no matter how late and no matter how old I got.
5. This is the house in which I attended prom (May 1999), graduated from high school (May 1999), and graduated from college (May 2003).
6. This is the house in which I lined my bedroom walls with "Got Milk?" ads, but realized I would never have more than Kayla or Renee.
7. This is the house in which I spent countless hours studying for AP Calc with Jenny and for AP Bio. To this day, I still have no idea why...
8. This is the house in which 4 month old Logan stayed up all night, wide awake, and my mom stayed up with him so I could get some sleep (January 2009). (Thanks Mom!)
9. This is the house in which I went from being a stubborn teenager with an attitude to a stubborn adult with slightly less of an attitude.
10. This is the house that I called "home" when I needed a break from college life.
11. This is the house in which my sister and I, freezing to death from the harshness of a looming Ohio winter, spent moving day at Pizza Hut, just to stay warm (November 1997).
12. This was the house in which I realized that my sister was my best friend, and that my parents were not the enemy. This was the house in which I realized that my family meant more to me than anything else.
I have grown to love that house, and I think the hardest part of leaving it was never getting to say goodbye (which I know sounds dumb). I left the end of my childhood in that house. My parents will never have another house that I could (at some point) call mine, too. From now on, their house will be their house and never, ever our house. The circle of experiences I've had since that day at Pizza Hut in November 1997 has come to a close, and perfectly.
Here's to new memories...and being able to write a similar post about my house sooner than later! :)
1 comment:
:( I'm sorry you're sad! I would be so sad if my parents ever moved from "our" house. I remember when we moved when I was in 8th grade and I walked from room to room saying goodbye (even though we sold it to my aunt who then sold it to my cousin so I can always go back). You will be writing a post like this about your house in no time! Fingers crossed!
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