First I will start out with a disclaimer. Since it is 2016 and it’s probably illegal to not have one…

I am very lucky and grateful to have made it to 22-years-old and for this to be the worst ‘loss’ I’ve had to endure. I know that there are much worse things that happen to people every day, and that at some point, everyone has or will go through this as well. I am simply writing this piece to cope with my feelings of sadness at this moment.

August 11, 2016.

Usually on this day each year I am anticipating my birthday which comes the day after this. This day, this year, however, is a little bit different. Today is the day my childhood home goes on the market.

To many, it may look like just some red bricks and wood, but to me, it is so much more. My parents bought this house in 1999 and throughout the past 17 years they have raised four cats, three kids, three hamsters, two iguanas and one special springer spaniel named Charlie.

As I look at the photos of the empty rooms, the freshly painted white walls, and the barren yard millions of memories flood through my mind. When we moved here it was just a house, but my parents and my family turned it into a loving home that will always have a special place in my heart for as long as I live.

What started out as four brick walls, an unfinished basement, and a creepy attic is now a beautiful, four bedroom home with an awesome upstairs office, bedroom / bathroom and a cozy finished basement. My parents have put blood, sweat and tears into upgrading this house and I can only hope that the next owners will appreciate it the way I do.

This house, this neighborhood and the people that surrounded it made for an unforgettable childhood and life thus far.

Saying goodbye is never easy. Over the past four years of college, I have said hello to many new places in which I lived and goodbye to others. But this was by far the most precious hello and will be the hardest goodbye. Behind that closed door lies so much happiness, laughter, and love. But behind that door, you will also find sadness, heartache, and loss. I pray that the next door that each member of my family opens will hold all the right things.

To The People That Buy My Childhood Home,

Hello. If you’re reading this, then congratulations! You are the new owners of the most amazing house on the market. No, it doesn’t have a home theater or an in-ground pool. It wasn’t built on a large plot of land, and it isn’t surrounded by a private forest. But let me tell you, it is a truly special place to call home.

I hope you have parties in the yard and family dinners under the pergola in the summer.

I hope you master the art of shooting hoops while standing on the slanted driveway.

I hope you keep the wooden kitchen table that my grandfather built because it fits perfectly.

I hope you proudly fly the flag in the corner of the yard that my parents put up. It’s very helpful when giving directions. (The red brick house on the corner with the flag.)

I hope you choose your favorite child to have the honor of having the biggest bedroom. (Just like my parents did with me.)

I hope you meet all of the neighbors because they are wonderful people.

I hope you still have a desktop computer to put in the office so that your children can play computer games on it.

I hope your children try (at least once) to color in all of the patio blocks with different colors of chalk.

I hope you never drop a glass plate or bowl on the kitchen floor because it will shatter into a million pieces.

I hope that if you have a cat, then you never leave your bedroom drawers open upstairs because it will crawl back there and into the attic. (Don’t worry though, they all came back out eventually…I think.)

I hope you’re always careful walking up and down the stairs because they are really steep!

I hope you keep my sister’s garden alive.

I hope you appreciate all of the (fake) hardwood floors that my parents put in on the main level (because I really loved the carpet before it).

I hope that you have a Christmas village and you set it up on the bar in the basement.

I hope the realtor (my mom) shows you the picture of what the upstairs looked like when we moved in so you can see the awesome transformation.

And most of all, I hope you enjoy my childhood home.

Love,

Former Ms. Poplar St.