Sixteen years is a long time to spend in one place, but it doesn't seem long enough when it's your home. I recently watched my parents sell mine to a starry eyed young couple with two sons who needed a great house to live in. It made me happy to know that two young boys would get to find the same hiding places in my basement during hide-and-go-seek, and swing off the old swing in my backyard. The house I called home was a magical place to me and I felt confident that this new family would find that magic as well. I now see pictures of the changes they've made to my very first home and all of the ways that they have made it their own. I'm happy to see that they adore it just like I did, but for many reasons it's still hard to say goodbye.
1. It built me.
Every stage of my life was just short of mastered in that house. The most important lessons of tough love, heartbreak and morality were realized within those walls. It was the backdrop of the most important moments of my life and is pertinent to who I've become.
2. It was my safe place.
I never realized how comforted I felt by my home until I left it. There's a feeling there that can't easily be recreated in another place. Everything from the marks on the hardwood floor to the smell of the walls brought that warm, safe feeling that I will always long for.
3. It was constant.
After we moved, I still caught myself turning the wrong way toward my old home. There's a simple but irresistible quality about having one place to always return to. No matter how far or how long I strayed, I always knew there was a place calling me back.
4. It was personal.
That house bore the marks on the door frame where my brother and I tracked our height and the scuffs in the floor from games of sock hockey. It knew me by my carvings into the cabinets that promised "true love always" and my pounding into the carpet from my failed days of gymnastics. It was dented and worn from my living inside of it for so long. It was like a mother in the way that it allowed me to unknowingly cave it in.
5. It's still with me.
Someone else lives in my house now, but my home is always in my heart. I can't go there physically, but I can always feel that sense of "home" that it provided me with. Even when I'm away, I always know the sun peering into the living room window and the sound of the jammed front door being slammed shut.The memories, feelings and nostalgia for that place are always with me and will always be a part of who I am.
Leaving home is a fact of life that everyone has to eventually face, and for some it is harder than for others. As silly as it may sound to some people, it can be like losing a part of yourself, and you never know how hard it can be until you're experiencing it. So, to the home that isn't mine anymore, thank you for the years of happiness that I wouldn't have wanted to get from any other place. Thank you for the shelter and warmth, and as Fall Out Boy would say, thanks for the memories. Now it's time for a new kid to make some, and I hope that they are as unforgettable as mine.
