This morning, as I was waking up on my last morning on Runnymeade Lane, it was hard not to think of some of the memories we have had there...
Watching Parke asleep that first night we were back from our honeymoon, thinking "this is my husband" and how weird and exciting that was all at once
Waking up early mornings to go running, and returning to the same grinning, slobbering, frantically wagging big mess of an animal we pass off as a dog.
Finally taking a pregnancy test after having "He Called Me Baby" in my head all night, and what an out-of-body experience it was to see that other line appear.
Leaving to go to the hospital for six long weeks, only to return with empty arms and a broken heart...and finding comfort again in the familiar
Crying on the couch, surrounded by Christmas cards with smiling babies and telling Parke I hated everyone...he told me I didn't and he was right, but it felt like at the time
Falling on my knees, looking out the living room window after another negative pregnancy test to see a rainbow appear
Taking yet another test and not believing what my eyes were telling me
Spending hours lying on the bed, feeling that baby move
Bringing home Gracie on Christmas Eve, the baby and I both cried most of the night but Parke still said it was the best Christmas of his life
Rocking, rocking in that nursery with the big zebra painting that reminds me of both of my babies
Putting my baby to sleep at night, always smelling her sweet hair one last time
Watching that baby girl smile, laugh, sit up and finally crawl
All of the laughter, tears and life that we lived there. In the end, it's just four walls. But when those four walls have seen the very worst and the very best of you, they become a part of who you are.
Goodbye little house, and thank you.