I always knew the day would come when we would have to pack up our belongings into cardboard boxes and neatly load them onto moving trucks and ship them to our new home. We had to leave you, the house that I grew up in, to move on to “bigger and better things.” Looking back at my time with you, I recognize that you, my childhood home, became part of our family.

Housing a growing family means you witnessed many milestones for our family. First steps, first words and so many other firsts occurred within your walls. Your walls observed as parents learned how to raise infants, toddlers and teenagers. You saw countless birthdays, anniversaries and family gatherings. You gave us a place to celebrate life with the people we love. Countless sleepovers happened in the hallway bedroom. Late-night giggles and movie marathons were captured in our time within your walls.

Your big yard allowed for games of tag and learning to ride bikes. Training wheels came off and next came a big-kid bike, and then a car. When it snowed and we ventured in the cold, your hills gave us a place to sled-ride, and the yard was transformed into our winter wonderland. When we came inside, your fireplace kept us warm. The mud puddles that would form in the driveway were perfect for splashing and berry bushes along the driveway were perfect for picking.

As a child, everything feels so big. The five-foot end of the pool feels like 20 feet, and your backyard feels like fields of adventure. Your hallways went on for miles when we were young and the ceilings reached the sky. You are in wonder of everything when you are young. As you grow up, you lose that sense of wonder. The things that filled you with awe as a child seem beneath you as an adult. I believe, in spite of this fact, if I were to go back and spend a night within your walls now, I think I would still feel this way. Your walls would take me back to being six-years-old and on top of the world. Or 13-years-old and slamming doors. When I walk in your door, I will always go back to my childhood.

I hope that, one day, I can find a home that will serve my children as well as you served me. I hope that it comes with all the best hide and seek places and a hallway closet that is perfect for jumping out and scaring your siblings. I pray that their childhood home has a room that they can call their own and a yard that is a castle one day and a jungle the next. I hope that their childhood home provides half of the adventures that you provided for me.

Thank you for protecting us. Thank you for keeping us warm and dry. But more than that, thank you for giving our family a commonplace to come together and spend time with one another. Most importantly, thank you for giving us a place to call home.

All my love,
The little girl whose handprint is on the porch.