My mom and dad are in the process of moving into their new house this week. In fact, tomorrow night will be the first night that they sleep in it. I'm so incredibly excited for them. When I was there over the weekend, I was walking around checking it all out and was so excited I jokingly told my mom I wanted to move in with her. (wouldn't she love that?!) I knew when they sold their old house, that it would be a sad day for them, and me and my brothers also. But they haven't sold their house yet and here I sit crying today. Sometimes I'm a little slow. It dawns on me today that I won't be in that house anymore. When I drop Aiden off on Monday when I go to work, it will be at the new house. Next time we go to eat dinner at mom and dad's, it will be at the new house. I will have no reason to be at the other house, other than to say goodby to it before it's sold. My parents spent almost 35 years in that house. We moved in when I was 1 1/2 so it was the only house I knew. The day I moved out, my mom cried. At the time I couldn't figure out why, I was just moving across town to live with some girlfriends while we were in college. It would be a few years later that I would realize that I was never living in that house again (are you seeing the slow part yet?) I lived in a house with my friends during college and then got married after college. But that was still my house, even if I wasn't living there. To this day, I never knock when I come over (unless they aren't expecting me, that is!) because I think of it as my house. Maybe that drives my parents crazy, I don't know. I look forward to all the new memories we will build in their new house, and they will be some wonderful ones, starting with our first Christmas there. But I will never forget all the memories of my first house, the house I grew up in. I will take them with me and cherish them. I can still see my orange and yellow shag carpeting with yellow walls in my room as a child. I remember my mint green walls and carpet and my bedspread with the hearts on it when I was in high school. I loved living in a cul-de-sac. All of us neighborhood kids would play kickball, wiffle ball, tag, ride bikes, you name it. We had a lot of kids in the neighborhood back then and I was lucky to have my best friend living right next door and another great girlfriend living on the other side of me. There was never a reason to leave Hazelwood Ct. I remember how small the house was before mom and dad added on to it. I remember on chilly nights before central heating, my dad would take my quilt and hold it in front of the heating vent to warm it up and put it on me so I wouldn't have to climb into cold sheets. I remember my bedroom window facing our neighbor's kitchen window and my best friend Dianna and I could yell back and forth between our windows. I remember Lorri (my other neighbor) and I tapping on each other's bedroom windows at 6:30 am wanting to borrow clothes from each other to wear to high school. We went to different high schools so we shared our clothes and that rocked. I loved summer evenings when all of us in the circle would bring out our lawn chairs and sit and eat and drink. I loved it when my aunt, uncle, and two little cousins lived next door to us for awhile and I got to go over and babysit them. (love you Jessi and Jenna!). I remember my brothers being born and brought home to that house, my Grandma Reba coming to visit us, having girlfriends spend the night, bringing boys home to meet my parents. I remember when I'd get sick in college I'd just want to come home and sleep in my own bed. I remember raking leaves and jumping into them and then when dad would burn them in the garden, we'd roast hot dogs. I remember the wooden playhouse my dad built for me and later the swing set he built for us. (are you still reading.....have I bored you yet??) I could go on for days, there is so much to remember and hopefully those memories won't escape me years from now. But for today, I feel like I'm losing a dear friend, a friend I will really miss. We won't be making any more memories in that house, that chapter is over. There are 6 grandkids that got to enjoy that house. The younger ones probably won't even remember that house when they grow up. We'll have to remember it for them. So while this is an exciting week for my mom and dad, sappy ole me is taking today to shed a few years, to think of the only house I knew, miss it a bit and then move on. And knowing my mom (and even my dad), I won't be the only one that sheds a tear. I love you dear old house.