A Letter to my House

Dear House,

How quickly our years together have gone.  It feels like yesterday we were moving in and trying to figure out how to arrange our belongings and the best places to position the pictures on your walls.  The first night I stayed here I remember not being able to sleep from the strange noises and the unfamiliarity of the darkness around your corners.  I was nervous for the safety of our newborn baby down the hall.  But how quickly that changed and we soon began to breathe life into you, to make you our shelter, our safe haven, our home.  The unsettling darkness became more familiar and I could rest knowing I was safe within you.  I grew accustomed to the strange noises of the night and soon didn’t even realize they were there.  As I unpacked the boxes and placed all of our things throughout your rooms, I began to feel a welcoming warmth, a sense of life, as though your blood had begun to flow and your heart had begun to beat.

It wasn’t long before I fell into a daily routine.  The gentle glow of the sun just beginning to shine through your windows every morning was so comforting.  How much I enjoyed walking down the hallway with the dawn of light filling your rooms and leading the way to my baby girl.  I’d pick her up out of her crib and carry her with me as I opened the blinds to every window, letting light come inside and warm the air.  It was time for you to wake up too.  I’d get breakfast going in the kitchen while listening to the noises of Keira playing in her bouncy chair and the Today show in the background. I’d slowly sip my coffee, basking in the glory of a new day.  Oh, how many wonderful mornings I have enjoyed with you!

Time went on, and days turned into weeks, months, and years as they always do.  Our first deployment came along, then a second, then a third.  You were there, comforting me through my pain and sadness and helping me to feel safe when I was alone.  A second baby became part of our family.  You stood strong, protecting me through the pregnancy and in those first few weeks of our little boy’s life when his daddy was still deployed and I was figuring out how to be a mother of two.  When I traveled to see family, despite my joy in visiting with them, I longed for your comfort and security, for the cozy feeling I would get as I laid on the couch every night relaxing the day away.  Your breath, your heartbeat, continually lured me back to you, the only place I could truly call home.

When we bought you, you were just a structure, a building with a roof to protect us from the wind and rain.  We would have been blessed if that was all you ever were.  But to me, you became more than that. You became like a child to me.  When we moved in, you came alive and I have felt like it was my duty to keep you alive, to make you the best that you could be.  I’ve painted your walls, and hung curtains on your windows.  I’ve cleaned you down to every corner and crevice.  If something needed to be fixed and I could do it myself, I fixed it.  We nurtured your yard, giving you a fence and patio in the back and a charming tree in the front.  We’ve (finally!) gotten your grass to be a plush carpet of green.  We’ve worked hard on giving you as much as we could, and it is undeniable that every penny, every bead of sweat, has been more than worth it.

As we have grown, as our lives have changed, you have been there to witness it all.  If you could talk, you could say more about our family than anyone.  I hope you would have good things to say.  The memories we have been able to create within and around you are priceless.  I will always treasure the sight of my babies learning to crawl and walk in your rooms.  I will reminisce about the joy the kids got from playing outside in your yard.  I will laugh at the silly arguments Randall and I would get into during our family home-improvement projects, but delight in the joy we got from the end results.  And I will be forever thankful to you for being such a splendid home, a safe place for my kids to have their first years, my trusted protection when Randall was gone, and the perfect template for creating so many wonderful memories.  But the time has come, as we knew it would, for the military to move us again.  I am sad to have to say goodbye, but you will always be with me in my heart.  And when the next person who lives here opens your blinds and the morning sunlight warms you, perhaps you will remember me, remember us, the ones who brought you to life and started the beating of your heart.

With Love,

Lisa