Just Four Walls

Today is moving day...finally. With all of the packing and will we/won't we rent, I've been too busy to think that we are really leaving the little house we've been in for the past five years.

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.