On Home & Its Heart

It's time for the big announcement, my friends:  John and I accepted an offer on our townhouse.  At first, I felt only excitement and relief.  Now, in a fleeting quiet after bedtime and before John returns from a rare evening work function, I feel different.  Reflective.  Sad.

I'm quite emotional when it comes to the home.  I hang onto every memory and stage in the place it happened.  On Grand Avenue, we shared our wedding night and my water breaking.  We slept in on Sunday mornings and kept a crib, for a time, in the kitchen.  Then, there was a period where we lived at my parents' house.  That was the time of Tommy's true babyhood: first crawling, reading, playing, laughing, talking, and walking.

And then, on the day when the paint of our bedroom was baby blue and we were just about ready to move in here, we found out Lucy would come.  What a wonderful moment!  The adventure began.  It's been such a long and short journey in this home.  Our family has flourished and stretched and cried and laughed.  We welcomed Jimmy, we grew to love our community.  That's why, after careful thought and many, many hours of conversing, John and I decided to call this city our home.

We bid on a house less than one mile away!

People are attached to their homes, certainly, and I know that when the days of final packing and moving come, there will be tears in saying goodbye to Shamrock.  But what adventures are before us still!  So much more growth and surprise and wonder for our family.  So much more unknown.

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