As I get older and my time with you continues to shrink, I find myself appreciating you more and more. You’re more than four walls with four bedrooms and three bathrooms, you were an essential part of my childhood, and while it is inevitable that I can’t stay here forever, I will always remember the protection and memories that you have provided for me.

Your location set the road map for how the next 15 years of my life would play out. The neighborhood in which you’re placed decided which schools I would attend, and eventually, the friends that I would make. I couldn’t have asked for a better piece of land for you to be built on. Your neighborhood was not only home to me, but to many other kids my age. I made some of my best friends in my first few years here, friendships that I wouldn’t trade for anything. You were a huge part of my social life growing up.

One of your bedrooms was my personal little sanctuary. It was decorated to fit my current taste, from the Jonas Brother posters taped to the wall to endless picture collages remembering my high school days, thanks for dealing with anything that I threw your way. That room was the place that I came to when I was happy and wanted to dance around in the mirror, and it was my go-to place to cry my eyes out when my first boyfriend broke up with me. It was my hiding place, my safe-zone, and it has seen a lot.

Your kitchen was home to family dinners every single night and chocolate chip pancakes the morning after a sleepover. Your table was the place to congregate and talk about our days over after-school snacks or dinner and was an essential part of bringing our family closer together every day. Your cupboards hold countless recipes from generations before me and the oven is the place where we’ve carried on the traditions of grandma’s gingerbread cookies at Christmas and the pineapple cheese ball at Thanksgiving. You were the center and main hub of the household and the main place for important family conversations.

But above all, the basement holds the best of the memories from this house. This is the place where you let kids be kids. Imagination ran wild down there in elementary school while my friends and I played everything from Barbie’s, school, and made up those silly dance routines to every Kidz Bop song out there. The basement saw my transition into adulthood. Eventually, the baby dolls got donated and the basement became a hiding place from adults and the placed that we played video games for hours. In high school, the basement was the place to watch movies with boyfriends, gossip with girlfriends, and the place where a party was thrown when my parents were out of town. It has seen a lot, but I wouldn’t trade my time down there for anything.

So, childhood home, as our time together comes closer to the end, I promise to take in every moment that we have together, because I know I will miss you when I finally go. Life may continue to go on, but I will never forget the house that built me.