Moving On...

As a kid, I moved around a lot. I think the longest I ever lived somewhere was maybe five or six years at a time. My mom and dad were adventurers when it came to real estate. They would buy a house, fix it up, and move on to bigger and better things. All of the houses we lived in were great, but I never became all that attached to any of them. I think my close family has always been the steady constant in my life, and not the houses in which we lived.

So I was a little surprised at the heartache and loss I felt when I heard that our house in Ashville, NY was recently sold and that my parents would be moving out in the beginning of April. They've been wanting to get something smaller for a while since my brothers and sister and I are all grown. The house is way too much to take care of now and they have other things to do these days. I am glad that they have the chance to move onto a new journey in life, but this house was special. After spending this past weekend with Hauna, TK, (Jakob and Taylor were out of the country, so they couldn't make it) and some extended family helping my mom and dad pack up my favorite house in the world, it almost feels like we have lost a family member of sorts.

Our house was built in 1861 and is full of character. We've lived there since 1997 and in those years, the house has brought my family great hardship in its restoration and much joy in the combined and individual memories it holds for each of us. It has bedrooms filled with days and nights of laughter and tears. It has a hidden room through a secret panel containing top secret information from underground clubs we created as kids (okay, maybe as teenagers). It has a coal stove we huddled around together every cold Western New York winter. It has a great pool and patio that saw countless parties and gatherings. It has an old barn that I slept in every night one summer. It has beautiful gardens my mom lovingly slaved in through rain and shine and in day and night (literally night... she would garden with a head lamp on if she had something to finish up). It has a home made picket fence and roof and the list goes on over which my dad sweltered as he worked hard every day of the year. It has a fire pit where joys and fears were shared, where songs were sung, and where laughter always rose up among the flames toward the sky.

I will miss my house. It was really good to my family and all of our friends who were welcomed there. I trust that God will see us through this hard but exciting time and bless the family that is lucky enough to be moving into it this coming month. I am grateful for the happy years we were given to spend there inside and outside its walls.

View an album online from the weekend here : http://picasaweb.google.com/sondrey/MovingOn