Our old house

The old fashioned light post reflected off the new sign in our yard when we arrived home last Saturday night. It's official our home is for sale!

When I saw the sign, my heart sunk and tears welled until I remembered we asked for it to be there.

Is it just us or is letting go of your first home like cutting an umbilical cord?

Shortly after getting engaged, Walter and I started our house search. Finding a "cute house" was our only criteria. We didn't worry about square footage or school district or playrooms. Even wallpaper, old carpet, and outdated light fixtures didn't bother us.

When I walked into the screened-in front porch overlooking the brick street and that same old light post, she captured my heart. The image of me reading countless books on that porch clouded my vision so I didn't even notice the Chinese wallpaper or the nail holding the kitchen floor down in that one squeaky spot.

We fell in love with her, this first house that we looked at, and handed over our earnest money before the end of the week.

And that was our first monetary investment. Since then we've sacrificed more difficult investments including buckets of sweat, much muscle power, and countless hours of thought over all the dilemmas this 100 year old beauty has brought us.

But I will miss her.

The night before our wedding, I sat with my college friends around this kitchen counter. And a week later, Walter and I drove up her driveway fresh and sunburned from our honeymoon. Three years later, Walter cautiously drove up that same driveway with our precious newborn Asher inside. We mourned recurring losses while sitting in this office watching The Office for hours trying to laugh ourselves back to peace. And then almost a year ago, I walked into this pink streamer-filled dining room with our sweet Amelie.

This old house has been the backdrop to many of my memories of early married life and first years of parenting. I will be sad to leave.

When I see people stop to grab a flyer I want to stop them to explain everything that paper doesn't list. We didn't mention the continuous cycle of flowering and sweet-smelling plants that bloom in the spring. Our realtor left off how cozy the small kitchen becomes on a Sunday morning. And it doesn't mention the generations of chirping house sparrows who annually add to their family line in the birdhouse attached to the garage.

Yes, that flyer lists the facts of dimensions and dollar amounts, but it could never capture the facts of all this house has to offer.