if these walls could talk
At some point, my ugly cries while preparing this house to sell were numbed by packing and the exhaustion that comes with it, designing for clients, choosing a senior prom dress with my daughter, and the mental gymnastics of planning ahead for my older two’s upcoming living arrangements. Which inherited item goes where next year is a hot topic as of late. Because inevitably, despite my feelings about feelings, life continues to march onward. The phrase “don’t blink” was often fondly used over time by passing women in stages of life a little further along than me in places as unassuming as the cereal aisle of the local grocery store… but I only thought I knew what they meant until this phase. Because it’s the one where those babies leave the nest, and things can feel a little uncertain. A friend told me writing this would be cathartic, so here I am, sitting in front of a blinking cursor, wondering what I really want to say: If these walls could talk.
The photo that we took the day we moved in
Recreating the photo a decade later – Jamin broke out the same shirt.
If these walls could talk, they’d tell you about a little family. Three kids. Two dogs. Tight-knit. About two college sweethearts building a small business, who worked hard over the course of a decade to bring this house to life and make a home for their family. Sometimes, even fresh beginnings in a relocation can bring a mix of hope and grief with difficult changes. I look back now and see our children’s sweet faces: their gangly limbs and nobby knees stretching into childhood. A big first, third, and fifth grader, wearing brave smiles for a new school. The picturesque neighborhood, with its expansive yard and a sweet community, has been absolutely wonderful.
At first, it was a bumpy start. Our middle didn’t take to our new pacing easily. The principal, God bless that man, assisted us nearly every morning, pulling a kicking, screaming child with zero self-preservation from the car to proceed to class, where she continued sobbing. I once had to pry her from my body like a tiny masupial with the help of a teacher, after I’d let her talk me into walking her to class. I cried for the rest of the day. We wondered if we’d made the right choice and questioned everything. I also fully acknowledged that our wonderful educators are never properly given their due. But in a little over a month, our very happy, well-adjusted, resilient middle child graduates with honors and scholarships. As it turns out, those “strong-willed” traits paid off on the other side, and the things that once kept me up at night now illicit laughter around our dinner table. I won’t bore you too much with the minutiae. I guess what I’m trying to say is that sometimes in life, things may not seem clear. Yet here we are, on the other side, with an imperfectly wonderful family and sweet memories like these. We’re unafraid to share the hard things and have authentic conversations, and I really believe that’s the actual point of it all. It’s part of what makes closing out this chapter for us so hard.
Looking back, we were pouring more into this house than paint and adding hardwoods, new windows, and doors. We were building something real: This house helped mold our family.
If these walls could talk, they would tell you about the hard things. Of real life and growing pains. But they would also tell you about Christmas mornings and pool parties. They would tell you about the game nights, big dreams, tears, and laughter. Lazy morning brunches, and chasing fireflies at dusk when the rabbits arrive in the yard to munch on the clover. {Don’t worry, they’re experienced escape artists from dogs at this point.} The cabana is our very favorite little escape, and the basement is the perfect spot for movie nights. You’re going to love the sunlight here. The way it glimmers across the walls and floor at different times of the day is truly one of the most magical elements of living here. Bird watching is a hazard of the job in a space filled with so many trees, and they take turns building a nest on the side porch every year. If these walls could talk, they would tell you about the small trees outside, planted by little hands. They would tell you that if you look closely at the hideaway, you can find faint outlines of their handprints in the concrete, and maybe an initial or two. The lawn was once littered with Nerf bullets, and you may discover a few pieces of an Easter egg or Lego remnant when gardening. Years ago, we found an alphabet puzzle piece in the HVAC while changing the unit, and wondered about the child who had played with it long before we even arrived.
They tried to warn us, but we blinked, and now it’s our turn to leave this amazing home behind.
Remember the first time you read your favorite book and wished you could experience it all over again? I guess you could say, while we know it’s time for us to move on, we envy you in the very best of ways, because this house… It’s a really good one. And we’re thrilled that you get to experience it in your own way all over again. Attached, you’ll find all the details I can provide. I even included a few things about the garden and paint colors, if that’s helpful. But it’s your turn to make it your own. This house is an easy house to love. It’s a great place to build a life and make your very own memories. It’s our greatest hope for you that this home brings you all the absolute joy and growth that it has brought us over the years.
If these walls could talk, they’d tell you that saying goodbye is really hard, and it’s the end of an era for us. But it’s a new one for you, and it makes it easier knowing that our favorite place is going to such a sweet family. Here’s to building a life and, most importantly, making some amazing memories that you get to keep. The ones that you’ll laugh about one day while sitting with your favorite people around the dinner table. Because it’s your turn for a beautiful chapter, and we wish you the very best.
