I have put off this post for months now. I have considered not writing it at least twenty times. Life is chaotic. There are boxes filling every room of our new house. I have a very busy baby. I have a lot of excuses... but it just doesn't seem right to move on without pausing to pay tribute to our first house. This little house was so much more than just a house, it was our home. We knew it was the one for us the moment we met it. It was the only we even looked at, but we felt it the second we walked into the door... And now, almost three years later, we put our little house on the market. One couple after another came to see it and when they walked through this is what I wanted to tell them:
To you this is just a master bedroom, but to us this room was our biggest project. We saved up for months and then put the money we received as wedding gifts towards a beautiful new bedroom set. We went to a hundred different furniture stores before we found the perfect one. I dressed up plain ol' lamps with broaches and ribbon. Brandon surprised me by painting the plain white walls a golden brown and then together we spent hours of exhausting work glazing the walls not once, but twice. The time we spent pouring over this room together was special - something that we worked together on and then felt so very proud of. That room was our refuge.
To you it might look like a typical closet, but to us it was a place of refuge where Brandon and I faced the world's problems. We laid in the floor of that closet to discuss the fears and frustrations of residency. We both hung up clothes while weighing out the risks and rewards of leaving a job that I loved for a bigger challenge. We sat facing each other, holding hands, when we decided it was time to start trying to expand our family. And then, Brandon held me as I cried in the floor when none of my clothes fit 8 months later. That closet was our board room.
To you I'm sure it looks like your typical front yard, not even worthy of "Yard of the Week," but to us this was our one attempt at a green thumb after another. This is the yard that my sweet husband planted a million pansies in that first year we were married. A yard where Brandon taught his country girl wife all about city things like edging. A place where we accidentally grew record setting sweet potatoes when nothing else would grow during the driest summer of Oklahoma history. That yard was our project.
To you it's just another kitchen, but to us it was the place where I poured my blood, tears and sweat over a big ol' turkey on my first Thanksgiving as a King. In this kitchen I experimented. I failed. I made really big messes. Every once in a while I hit a home run. I didn't start a single fire. I conquered my mother's chocolate pie. In this kitchen Blythe, Zoe and I made cake balls covered in sprinkles and then ate them for breakfast for the next three days. In this kitchen Brandon and I came home from OU/TX to find all my cousins cooking sushi. In this kitchen Rylee received a million baths despite her attempts to escape. In this kitchen we handed our son his first real food. That kitchen was our operating center.
To you it may appear to be your typical living room, but to us it was the heart of our home. This living room was where we: snuggled on the couch, rang in the New Year, entertained our friends, opened our Christmas presents, wrote a thousand thank you cards, crashed on the couch with our new little human, prayed with our small group, overanalyzed the mantle decor, cheered on our favorite sports teams. That living room was our gathering place.
To you one look at our guest room and all you would have thought was that it needed a paint job, but to us this was the room where our friends and family made our home their own. This is where we held all the slumber parties - friends, cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings and dogs. If it hadn't been for this room our visits from out-of-towners would have gone without the late night talks or the early chats over breakfast in our pajamas. This room brought us lots of memories. That guest room was our families' home away from home.
To you this nursery may have been a little dark, but to us this was a room overflowing with love. This was the room we brought our baby home to. This was a room we had agonized over paint samples and fabric swatches. This was a room that Pops had torn to pieces and then put back together with the perfect boyish, rustic touches. This room was filled with photos of some of the great men in our family that we wanted our son to look up to. This room held treasures that we had collected near and far. This room heard the words of many, many books. This room was where we rocked and cuddled and soothed and just stared in awe of the little boy asleep in his crib. This room was the hardest to pack. This room held so many of my most beloved moments. That nursery held our hearts.
To you this garage isn't anything fancy, but to us this garage was the first thing we saw when we weren't sure if we still had a house or not. This is where I sat outside the door and cried because the tornadoes had spared our home. This garage was where we had a storm shelter installed so that we could keep our Little Prince as safe as possible. That garage was our safe place.
To you our dining room was just another dining room, to us this was the spot for good conversation. This room is where we fed our friends, found out our baby was a boy and colored Easter eggs with Blythe and Zoe. This table saw many a project from start to finish. This room held the pictures from our wedding and our marriage license. This is the room where we spent a lot of time in prayer - not just over meals but also in our morning quiet times. That dining room was our place for entertaining.
So while it may just look like your run of the mill, typical three bedroom two bath brick house, it was really so much more. It was the place my husband brought me home to after our honeymoon. Its walls heard many hours of laughter and its floors are forever marked by the pitter patter of one tiny little set of feet. This is the place where we went from a young married couple to a family. It was so much more than paint, and flower beds, and decorations - that house was our home. Boy, was it good to us. There will forever be a special place in our hearts for 15904 Stoneview Drive. Thank you sweet little house for all the wonderful memories.
You may not remember me, but my mother is from Vian and I remember going to your house at a young girl. My mother had told me about your blog and I've read several posts (so good!) But this one, this one is very good, and pulling on my heart strings. You got a random 25 year old girl and her 30 year old boyfriend crying over a house we don't even know!
ReplyDeleteI read your blog all the time and I have to say this post may just be my favorite. You captured the love you had for your first home and made me feel it too!
ReplyDeleteThis is exactly why we kept our house as an investment property...just couldn't bare to see it go.
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