A house, a home

We've lived in our house about 6 years, and throughout our time here I have always claimed that it never felt like our home. A few weeks after we moved in, cracks started appearing in the walls. Long story short, the previous owners, who had lived here for over 30 years, had chosen not to disclose to us that the house had significant settlement issues, going so far as to cover up all evidence of it. We had put a good chunk of money into purchasing the house (this was 2005, after all), and Scott was very worried that there were structural issues. Fortunately, the only effects of the settlement were cosmetic, but the stress of the situation prevented us from emotionally attaching to the house at the time, and for some reason our detachment persisted. It is relatively barren in terms of furniture and decoration. We have only six pictures hung in the house, in total.

Recently, a constellation of factors have converged to make a move the reasonable choice. We're not going far, only 15-20 miles away. Still, it will bring a host of benefits to ourselves and our children, and both Scott and I have come to the conclusion separately and together, pragmatically and intuitively, that this is the right choice for us at this time.

So, here I find myself, packing boxes, shocked to be nostalgic. I've been looking forward to moving since about 8 weeks after we moved in, yet in packing up rooms, I see Kesenia's first steps. Eliana's first written word scrawled on a magnadoodle. Birthday candles lit, anniversary gifts given. The last time Kesenia nursed, turning away the breast for my newly short hair. Wine and friends. Forgiving myself for being an imperfect mother, and again, and again. Learning my niece-or-nephew was a niece and a nephew. Our decision-making process about midwifery school. Donovan's birth. The first time he nursed, newborn-crawling across my belly, minutes old, naked and sticky. Butterfly kisses, group snuggles, piggyback rides. Laughter.

I'm surprised that I've linked these sweet and salty memories to this place. The truth of the matter is that the memories are of limitless love which follows us wherever we go. Still, I am committed to making our next house a real home. It has a different sense now. I will embrace it from the get-go as the backdrop of where love happens.