Well, we have gotten moved. We moved almost everything out last Friday and Saturday, and finished moving and cleaning this week. We left these people a VERY clean house. I have to say that we were pretty nice with everything we did for them. We closed on the house today which was sad but also a relief. We stopped by the house to say goodbye one last time and take a picture of the four of us on the front porch. I didn’t know if I would cry or not, but I did.
This was our home – not a house – a home. My home, our home. This was where I baby sat my nieces and nephews. Trent doesn’t know it, but he’s not the first person to claim his room. It used to be Claire’s dance room. This was the home where I cried because I didn’t know if we would ever have children to fill the extra rooms. This was the home where I found out I was pregnant with our first child (I will always remember the exact location where Ryan and I embraced as I told him the good news). This was the home that Trent filled with his giggles and sweet voice. This was the home where I took several pregnancy tests before I believed that I was REALLY pregnant with baby number 2 sooner than we were planning. This was the home where I carefully prepared my baby girl’s nursery. This was the home I came home to without my baby girl knowing that she might not ever sleep in her beautiful nursery. This was the home where she slept, ate, breathed, grew, and lived. This is a home filled with beautiful and painful memories, but they are our memories. Thankfully, those memories were not sold with that house. They will be cherished in my heart forever.