Where to begin and what to say. I remember the day we, a family of four, moved into a blue house at the end of a street. There was so much to get done and renovate on that house. Dad worked long hours and mom did too. I had finished nursing school and was working my first nursing job in an orthopedic office. My sister had graduated high school. We were that family of four moving into what would be the last house my dad would have lived in. Tree lined streets that caught a breeze and carried through the open windows. Neighbors that came and went, and some of those neighbors have lived there as long as mom and dad and have been such a blessing to my mom after my dad’s passing.
That house saw holidays, family meetings and gatherings. I got married and left that house. Brought my kids back to that house. Christmas and Thanksgivings, card games, cookouts and celebrations. It saw me have to move back home with two kids in tow when my marriage ended. It was a sanctuary for us then and a peaceful place where my kids knew they were surrounded and protected and loved by a family like no other. The stories those walls could tell. They saw us grow and change, they saw illness and loss of family members. Those walls heard moments of pure joy, moments of grief and healing. Those walls heard my babies cry and they heard their laughter. Snow storms where theirs was the last street to be scraped, and survived wind storms, water leaks, busted hot water heaters. It saw many changes to it’s insides. Mom would get an idea and dad would get that sly grin and shake his head but he would do whatever it was she dreamt up. Wallpaper changes, making new doorways, closing others, paint, flooring and remodels of just about every room in that house. Screened in porches and a garden space in the back. A lawn that dad would mow and then get his dandelion picker and walk the yard and you better not park on his grass lol. It saw both my parents through different surgeries, dad fighting a kidney disease and then lung cancer. Those walls saw the trials and triumphs of us two girls and then my two kids.
Just like making new doorways and closing others, that is our life. The chapter on this house and it’s blue front door was closed for the last time last night. It was a simple house, a house my parents took a chance on, a house that was home not because of those four walls but because of the people who lived there and who shared life. Sometimes people judged because it is a manufactured home. Well bless your heart and pull your head out. My parents made sure there was a roof over our heads, that we may not have had all we wanted but we had all we needed. That was home base for alot of us. I know that despite the purging and packing, the stress of this move, that it has been bittersweet for us all. Especially my mom. A lifetime of memories started before we all moved into that house, but the last 30 years were spent in that house. Alot happened in those 30 years. But as one door closes another one opens. Knowing my dad, he would have been in the thick of it all. Telling us girls we didn’t know how to pack or pack the storage building, fuss at mom for doing too much, raise his voice and eyebrows, shake his head alot and find a few pranks to pull. He also would have agreed with the plan in motion. He was practical, he was smart. Just like mom is and fortunately a little bit of that trickled down to the rest of us.
It was a hard move, it was five of us moving 30 years of life. Mom has some great neighbors who helped when they could but most of all have kept an eye out for my mom and sister since dad died. As we were packing up the last load, they were encouraging and supportive. I remember when we moved in, there was so much work to do. Paneled walls that we re did to paint and wallpaper– early 90’s,don’t judge! Moving in and the work they did. My first phone line, I thought I was hot you know what. I took call with the doctor I worked for, so I would get calls to come in to assist on surgeries in the middle of the night, hence my own phone line, all pre cell phones. Picked up on my first date with my ex husband, should have went the other way haha (if I had I wouldn’t have my kids). So many memories in not just a house but a home. It was the four of us that moved in that home, and I know dad had some friends that helped. Dad is gone and so are those friends, so us two girls, my two kids and my mom all took part in moving them out. Was alot easier when we were younger!
So today, that house will start coming down. The hard work, time and love that those walls saw. The roof over all of our heads at some point, the walls that made us secure, the steps leading out of that house and to new adventures. It is a bittersweet moment, but as that house went through changes we all did too. She has been a home and shelter and has served our family. The walls will come down and it will feel callous in a way to see the parts it will become. There is some brokeness in the rubble, kind of like some parts of life. But a fresh start is going to arise for my mom and sister. Our little blue house will always be our home and will always be in our hearts. There will be a new house that will stand where she once did. It will still be home. The walls will be different and the floor plan not the same. I know in my heart that it will still be a beacon in a crazy world.
Now you may be saying oh my gosh Stephanie you are so stupid, it is just a house and people move all the time. You are right! We have moved before, we have lived in different houses, but this was the longest home we lived in. Plus I am an over thinker and over feel and too damn wordy. You see things through a different view when you get older. You see things from more than just your eyes or you should atleast try. Change is always hard, change is the constant that we have in our lives. Expectations go along with change and I am finding as I age, my expectations aren’t equally matched and some are unfulfilled. So yes, it is just a house, yes we all move, yes your big butt is tired and you have to go to work today while someone goes to demo your family’s home. That is the point though, it isn’t a house but a home. My home is going to be a home to my mom and sister during this transition, so that may be challenging for them with our schedules and a yappy dog. A little challenging for the next week as my air conditioning took hot girl summer literally and we have a fan in every window and are sweating our butts off!
There is going to be a fresh start. There will be a new house to go on the land that the blue house once stood. The leaky pipes, water leaks, old decks will be gone and new house will emerge. An exciting chapter as a homeowner for my sister and a new story for my mom to write. A chance to make new memories, new starts. If it wasn’t for the foundation of our family then new foundations couldn’t be built. Same land,new house, but it will be a home. Think about it, home is your sanctuary. Home is where you can feel a sense of peace or atleast you should. I had a home that lost its peace during my marriage and I vowed never again to let my home be that way and at some high costs I have kept it that way. Your home isn’t just the four walls and the source of endless repairs and cleaning and upkeep–well there is that, but it is your sanctuary, your safe place, your shelter from the world. Atleast it should be. It is a blessing to have a place to lay your head and a table to eat at, your own space in a world that runs out of space. This story is more than just 30 years of a house, but years of memories, heartaches and blessings because we loved in this one house. You can live in the smallest of apartments and as big of a house as you want, but it should be your home. The locations may change, the house may change, who is in that house may change, but your house should be a home.
We closed the door on that house one last time last night and soon there will be a new home for my mom and sister to walk in to. I know they are beyond excited and thankful we won’t have to move these boxes anytime soon. Our bodies are tired, are minds are stressed and our hearts are melancholy, yet we still push on. It really is the close of a chapter on our lives, a chapter minus our dad and the thoughts of him in that house. I know him, he would shake his head and take that big hand and say now no sense on carrying on, you got to do what you got to do. He said to us the day before he died, you have one life, go live it and take care of your mom. So we close the door on the house that was a home and look forward to crossing the threshold of a new chapter and a new place for mom and my sister to call home. Maybe this seemed trivial to write about and again bless your heart for thinking so. Maybe we all stop for a minute and think about our home and make it more than a house, make it your sanctuary and your refuge in this crazy life. Perhaps you make more memories, love the people under that roof, open your door and heart when all you want to do is stay behind that closed door. Let those walls support your and be a place of rest and relaxation, but don’t be closed off. Take that chance, dance in the kitchen, open those doors and those hearts! I have lived in my home for 15 years, it started out scary and overwhelming as a single mom to keep a roof over our heads and make it a home of comfort and safety. I probably spent too much time behind those closed doors, never felt I deserved more than what I had and no one to share it with or my kids. My home is our home, my heart has unfulfilled desires, but I have a sanctuary in the storms of life. Your house is your shelter, but is it your home? Our little blue house was our home and though it will no longer stand, the moments and memories will be forever in our minds and hearts. There will be new windows to see out of, bathtubs to soak the cares away, new doors to walk through….but the vision will always have the moments in time in the peripheral line of sight. They will look out to the same view while the film rolls down memory lane. A simple house that became a home.