Recently my parents closed on the sale of their house – my childhood home. My mom was pregnant with me at the time they built it. They moved in about one month before I was born. That was about 31 years ago. It’s the only house I ever celebrated birthdays, Christmases, or Thanksgivings in. It’s the only childhood home I know!
Of course when we were young it was out in the middle of “no-where”. As we grew, so did our little town & now it’s surrounded by everything you need! They sold our house along with about 20-acres that surrounds it. The land was left to my Dad & his sister by their parents. The new owner has bought all the land & the house … for their horses! They’ll eventually build a new house & tear ours down. That could be before the end of summer or some time away, but it’s inevitable. Our little ole’ house doesn’t exactly fall into their million dollar plan!
To think about someone else living there – either in our house or on the land is so strange. They’ll never know it the same way we did.
They won’t know about the tire swing, games of baseball or egg hunts that took place outside. They won’t know about my brother’s wedding or his horrible summer-time accident (two separate events – the wedding was NOT a horrible accident!) that took place in the back yard. They won’t know about all our dogs that ran in the yard and about the big tree that we buried them under as the passed. They won’t know about the Graduation banners that hung out congratulating each one of us kids as we graduated high school (oddly one of those banners doubled as a “Moving Sale” sign this very weekend). They won’t know about the “lucky spot” at the top of the drive-way where we could sell “almost” anything.
They won’t know about the skeet-shooting that took place in the pasture or the arrival of the cops & the court dates that followed. They won’t know about the big fish that have been caught in the pond, the deers shot from tree-stands, the cows that roamed the field, or the adventures with our two horses – Pumpkin & Scooter.
They won’t know how bad the corner cabinet in the kitchen hurts your fingers, until they get pinched for the first time. They won’t know about all the bridal showers, baby showers and parties that were hosted in our family room or what the mantle looked like when it was full of stockings at Christmas-time. They won’t know that the carpet they walk on was prayed over before it was laid (believe me, I’m all about prayer – but that occasion was just odd!!). The won’t know about the layers of wallpaper that can be found in the powder room, or about the wall of pictures that hung down the hall.
They won’t know why the closet door in Staci’s bedroom is scratched so badly. They won’t even know which bedroom was Staci’s! They won’t know that the bath tub in my parent’s room that was used when we were infants, just bathed three of the grandchildren the other night!! They won’t know about the countless games & hours of fun that was had in our basement – alot of that time while my parents played Trivial Pursuit upstairs with their friends! Or about the birthday parties & slumber parties that we always got in trouble for while we were down there.
They won’t know about the laughter that took place having four children under the age of 5 or the fights that came along with it.
There’s so much they won’t know about, but yet almost every memory I have for the last 31 years involves that house. I just hope I can hold on to all those memories & remember so much more, even after the boxes are packed and the moving van is gone!
Now, my parents have closed on the purchase of their new home. We just had their Moving Sale (31 years in the making) this weekend and now they’ll start to move into their new place. Strangely, we won’t know all the history that the family moving out is leaving behind, but it’s a new place – one that we’ll make new history of for ourselves and one that will soon be “home”.