To The Place I Call Home, You've Been Good To Me

Tomorrow's the day.

Tomorrow I'm off to live in the dorms.

I've only moved once in my life, but it was almost 8 years ago, so I can't recall very much stress associated with the move. I was just your average ten year old, looking forward to her new purple bedroom and all the new nooks for hide-and-go-seek. 

It didn't really hit me that we had moved until about three years later. It was the weirdest thing really. I was just laying on the floor of the living room, looking up at the ceiling, and I thought to myself, oh yeah─we moved.

Go ahead and call me crazy, but that was the first time I actually really thought about it. By then my memories of the home's little details had become a bit foggy. I couldn't remember the exact layout of all the basement's rooms, or how long the hallway was to the bathroom. And for some reason, that bothered me.

It was in that moment, laying there on the cold hardwood floor, that I realized I was starting to miss that house a little bit. I think it's more the memories than anything else.

So here I am today.

About to make the journey to my new home.

I'm not sure when it'll hit me exactly, when I'll realize, oh yeah─I moved. (Though in writing this, it's starting to hit me now.)

There are little things I miss about the old house, and I've already realized that there are little things I'll miss about this house too. So in honor of this house I've called home for the past 8 years, in honor of this extravagant creation that my father built with his own two hands, I have a few things I would like to say.

In honor of this place I call home:

First, to my kitchen. We have had some really good times. As designated head chef of the family, I have prepared (almost) every single meal for the past three years with you. You were there every time I burnt the grilled cheese, but you didn't judge. You were there when Mom and I attempted to make a pumpkin pie. And it wasn't horrible, but it wasn't the best pie either. And you were also there when I made my first batch of custard, and it was the best thing ever.

Thank you for giving me a space to be creative and to try new things. Most importantly, thank you for providing a space to practice hospitality, a place to prepare meals for others, and an inviting space in which to share those meals.

Now to the basement. My very own creation─the child that I practically birthed. Let's just say that you have transformed in beautiful ways. You started out as this childlike wonderland, offering us kids our own personal skate park in the deep heart of winter. To the average onlooker, you were just this slab of cement. But I knew better. I knew that with you, the possibilities were endless. Roller blades, scooters, skateboards─you saw them all, and you took it like that concrete slab of cement that you are.

Then the remodel came about, and I actually had a say in the layout! At this point in time I aspired to be an architect─so you can imagine, this was just the coolest thing ever. I was on my way to the top, I just knew it.

You've seen many people, for many different things, and even when some beat you up─when they spilled on the carpet or dropped hard objects on the floor─you let them come back for more. Sleepovers, movie nights, Super Bowl parties, karaoke nights, dance parties─you were there for it all.

So thank you for providing an open space. Thank you for providing a place that others could come to simply enjoy a few hours of life. And thank you for helping me to realize that not every basement is scary. I'm not going to say I was never a little frightened (especially after certain movie nights) but I would like to point out that you did in fact have your moments.

I would also like to mention the guest bedroom. You took me in as one of your own. When I just couldn't sleep in my own bed, you welcomed me in. When I wanted to sneak onto the roof without Dad noticing, you opened your window to me. When I wanted to hide illegal─oh wait, that didn't happen, never mind. I want to say how much I appreciate your full body mirrors on the closet doors─they've been keeping my style up-to-date for about 5 years now.

Some people have a "second mom"─I have a "second bedroom". That's you, if you didn't already know.

And I can't forget each and every bathroom in the house. Thank you for being there for me. That is all that needs to be said.

And finally, to my very own bedroom. You've seen me at my best, and you've seen me at my worst. You've provided a space to not only rest my head, but to study scripture, to focus and relax. You've provided me a place that is all mine, a place outside the busyness of life, a place that I can come to pray and to think, and to focus my heart on where the Spirit is leading me.

You have grown along with me─from pink and purple flowers, to teal and brown. We were distant the first few years, but it wasn't you─it was me. I may or may not have been afraid of the dark, and most nights building a bedtime fort with my brother sounded much more appealing. 

I slept on the balcony, on the hardwood floor, on the sofa, in the guest room, in my brother's room, in my parent's room, in the camper on the driveway, in a tent in the backyard, on the trampoline─wouldn't doubt I slept on the bathroom floor at some point─and even on the carpeted floor right outside my bedroom door.

So thank you for welcoming me back every time I came crawling back to you. You never gave up hope that I would one day return. And one day, return I did. And look at us now─we're just two peas in a pod.

I was so stylish, wasn't I?

[Interested in reading more? Check out the Blog Archive to the right to find links to my other posts.]


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