on saying goodbye…

I’m not very good with goodbyes. Never have been. Never will be. So this “saying goodbye” business to our house has been rather…difficult. It doesn’t help that very well-meaning people in my life keep asking me (in soothing tones) how I’m handling the move. I may say that I’m doing okay, but I’m not. Truth be told, it’s all I can do to choke back the tears so I’m not driving around town with big smears of snot running down my chin and permanent mascara rings around my eyes.

Plus, I don’t really feel like I have had time to process. Between the packing and the exhaustion and the distraction of kiddos, I just had not thought about it much. Until Sunday. I was in our bedroom, wiping down the filthy baseboards when I was almost physically knocked over by wave after wave of nostalgia. It seemed odd that I would have such a visceral reaction to an empty room, but as I ran my fingers along the walls that we painted (multiple times) and walked down the warm wood hallway for the umpteenth time, whispers of the last seven years swirled around in my mind.

Remember all the tea parties in Madi’s little playhouse…remember when Parker smeared all of that red lip stain all over his face…remember all the nights I snuggled up in Fiona’s toddler bed and stared at the flowers on her ceiling…remember when Ben and I would lay in bed at night taking bets on when the kids would wake up…remember when…remember when…

How do I say goodbye to a place where I spent so much time…lived so much life…grew so much as a person…became a mom…

But.

Maybe I can skip right over goodbye and say hello to the new owners instead. Maybe that will bring me some sort of twisted closure. So here goes…

to our dear new homeowners…

Welcome Home! I knew the moment we sat down at the closing that you were moving into the perfect place…as a young couple on the brink of parenthood and looking for a place to put down roots. It is that kind of house, the kind you walk through once and know it is where you want to be. That’s how it was for us when we were looking for a place to grow into a family, and I am so glad that you are starting your adventure at the “blue house” the exact same way. You won’t be disappointed.

I know we gave you some tips at the closing, but I had a few more that I wanted to tell you. I spent a lot of mornings eating pop tarts and putting together puzzles…spent a lot of afternoons playing hide and seek in the backyard…spent a lot of nights rocking babies back to sleep…I feel like an expert that is about to go extinct, so humor me…

Avoid sitting in the living room in the corner between the two windows…I’ll be honest, it can be a little drafty. I would invest in a warm blanket and when possible, get off the couch and snuggle with your kids instead.

Use the dining room…to eat. I have so many memories of time we spent together around the table talking about school, work, and just life. And honestly, the dark wooden floor hides a multitude of PB & J crumbs.

There is a “non-squeaky” path out of the nursery. I promise. It takes some precise leaps and twirls, but it is feasible. Don’t give up!

Try not to accidentally lock your kids in the downstairs bathroom. To get them out, you have to take the door off the hinges, and if you aren’t able to dislodge it before your husband dashes home from work, it will result in piles of tears for your kiddo…and you.

If you occasionally get a whiff of Elmer’s glue and tempera paint in the kitchen, it is leftover from the sky-high pile of art projects that were created in the breakfast nook…our craft area. Sometimes I felt like the smell was here to stay.

You may wish that we didn’t cut down the tree in the backyard. Try to stifle that feeling…not much good came from all those walnuts.

Every time you curse the stairway into the basement, just know that it really was…much worse. I promise.

No matter how dark the night is, there is always the streetlamp shedding a glimmer of light through the cracks in the blinds.

When you are up in the middle of the night with your baby, stop and listen. You might just hear the whispers of the moms who came before you…prayers, cries for help, whispers of “I love you”…listen and draw strength from it – we were there, and we made it too…

Dance. Crank up the music and dance whenever you can. The neighbors won’t care, and it makes everything better somehow.

And speaking of the neighbors, don’t take them for granted. I know we did, and now, I can’t even bring myself to go and say goodbye to the most supportive group of people who look out for each other, support each other, and occasionally crack a few jokes at your expense.

When you are cold in the winter…and hot in the summer…head to the basement room…it is the most well-insulated room in the house…

There will be days where you don’t like the house very much. Tripped circuit breakers and creaky floors and awkward corner cupboards. But even with all that, we always loved it, and I hope you do too.

It’s a special place. Please take care of it…

Love Rachel