Recently, I was out shopping and Rob called to tell me that this house had been torn down. It knocked the wind out of our sails. We haven't lived in that home for more than six years, but it was devestating news. It sounds a little silly to be so upset about a house, and so I've tried not to make too big of a deal out of it. But maybe listening to Bob this morning validated my feelings a little for me. That house was a home for us. It did become sacred. This was where we spent our first night after our honeymoon with only: a bed, bowls, spoons, a box of cereal and a package of top ramen. I can remember walking into our bedroom in that home at 5:00am one morning to tell Rob that I was pregnant with Megan. I can still smell the freshly tilled soil of the big garden that Rob loved to work in during the summer evenings. I can hear the creaks of the funny, old fashioned closets and picture the little nooks that made that house so special. I can still feel the pain of Rob driving his little remote controlled car across that kitchen floor into my bare feet while I was cooking dinner. I can picture in my mind the corner of the living room where we put our Christmas tree. I remember another corner of the living room where I spent hours rocking little baby Megan. I remember the wash room where Rob first buzzed his head in support of a coworker's son who had been diagnosed with cancer.
Hopefully this helps explain why it is really sad now to drive by and see a big empty lot, and I'm sure it will also make me sad to see the new home that will be built there one day. Time marches on and new memories are made in new homes, and that's as it should be. But this morning the sentimental part of me couldn't resist picking up a brick that was once part of my first home with my sweetheart, the place where we became a family, after all it truly was a sacred dwelling. I hope somewhere we have a picture of that cute little house, if I find one to scan in I'll add it to this post later. For now I just have pictures of it as it is today.
6 comments:
I liked that post Lisa! You should really see if you have some pics of that place and post some :) It made me want to write about our first place too...maybe I'll copy you if you don't mind :)
Of course not, Claudia! Post away! It's part of your history so it should be written about, right?
Sad day. But I don't think it'll be long after I move out that they'll flatten my first house. It's kind of old. Funny how you can get so emotionally attached to something like a house even when you've got a much nicer one. But I'm still attached to both apartments that Karen and I lived in. It's sad to think that they're tearing one of them down this summer.
This is such a beautiful post! Thank you so much for sharing. You are such a talented writer.
I remember being in your first home for our friday night get togethers. I loved it. You really made things feel so homely. I remember how it made me long for the same type of little starter home with the wonderful family I now have.
ohhhh the memories in that house where to start oh I know if we came over and the door was locked yes of course waite till it was unlocked hehe. and the boys peeing off the front porch, or wrestling on the couch and breaking the legs off. I remember decorating it when meg was born. Fun fun stuff. I Love the post!!!!
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