Dear 321 Ted Allen Lane,
Where do I begin? Probably with a little curly headed boy and a blonde headed girl with bouncy curls just turning one. Back before you were complete. We got blisters on our hands from painting you from top to bottom and putting every bit of our heart and soul into you. From a simple place.....to a place we called home. You saw Caed learn how to ride his bike for the very first time without training wheels. You heard the laughter of Emy as she learned to not only walk but run jump then climb, you also heard her tears as she learned to sleep in her big girl bed without mommy and daddy and boy did she not want to. You were there when I cried tears of sadness when my boy started school and tears of joy when he learned to read. Then when life became unsure. Our marriage was rocky and it seemed everything we did just made it worse. These walls saw our pain and were lined with our tears. You saw when hope dawned again and when things got whole again. When smiling and happiness was no longer absent. When love and laughter had meaning once more.
You saw when Emy began to grow. When she was so giving she cut 10 inches of beautiful golden locks to give away to Locks of love. Then you were here again when there was news of another baby. After 6 tests I finally had their daddy convinced. Yes, you were here then too. It was here on the stump in the back yard when I first felt the tiny kick of baby Quinn. We laid in the bed in the backroom together and listened intently to her little heartbeat on the prenatal monitor for hours...it never got old.
Then she came. Early. It was this home, your comfort I longed to feel after a long NICU stay. Then when she finally got to come home and we were finally complete. It was here in which I had all my love together in one spot again. It was here my big boy Caed lost his first tooth and Emy the same a few years later. It was here Emy left little drawings of people on the doorframe as if greeting me hello. Here that Quinn learned to scoot, roll over, crawl and walk. You saw when Emy was diagnosed with Lyme disease only for Quinn to be diagnosed as partially deaf not a year later. You've heard my prayers for them.. prayers for healing and grace.
Here we have kissed countless scraped knees and elbows. We've laughed more in this house than we have cried. We've built tent forts in the living room and played countless hours of hide and seek. We've cuddled together on stormy nights and talked about the stars. It was here that Saturday mornings we were greeted by 3 little kids so full of life and love bouncing on our bed while we still slept which eventually turned into an epic ticklefight. We've spent evenings outside swimming and laughing and building fires. So many memories and so much love. It was here by his bedside we kneeled and prayed together as my little boy accepted Jesus as his Savior. It was here my boy became too big to cuddle with mommy anymore, here he made his first real friends and here he no longer asked to have a nightlight on.
There have been so many firsts just in the last few weeks... Emy riding her bike for the first time in the same spot Caed did just years before. Quinn getting her first big girl bike to where I dreamed of her learning to ride her bike in the same spot the other two did before her. I am not sure how to leave you. To leave this place that holds so much of what I've loved. These memories that have given me such joy. I know in my heart you are just a house, just boards and beams placed together..but you were our house. You shared with us so many important times in our life. It was in this house our family grew. It blossomed and happiness echoed throughout. It was loud and crowded alot of the time but part of that was what made it so special. I'm not sure how to say goodbye. I'm not confident that I can totally. Your goodbye will be a process, one that I will have to grieve over time.
But thank you for the gift of the memories I hold. I can place them in my mind, somewhere inside that reminds me all of this happiness that took place In a little house nestled in a small town tucked behind the trees.
People after us will come and repaint the walls, the fingerprints will have been scrubbed away along with little traces of what was before. But my memories of this place will remain the same locked tight and safe in a portion of my heart that I will forever and always treasure.
Thank you.
