A Nebraska native with a love of coffee, the Lord, music, a good romance novel, movies, and dessert. I was critical of their choice to get rid of our comfortable old house and start over, considering it to be impractical and perhaps even foolish. A momma of 2 young boys whose days are filled with wrestling, running, and noise. Even as I wrestle with my own motherhood, I still occasionally forget the fact that my parents are people who exist in a capacity beyond that of being Mom and Dad.Then I realized that this was no longer my story. I wanted them to move so badly. A family that wants their children to have the same magic as I did. We’re always welcoming new writers. Can it slow down? People are moving. I know that the time I have with my parents is now on a downhill slope. It is two people that turned it in to a home. As a young girl, it was magical. Dorothy once said, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home." I will watch them come into their own in a new stage of life in a home that makes them happy.Get daily updates, kick-ass content, and curated recommendations.Get daily updates, kick-ass content, and curated recommendations.Get daily updates, kick-ass content, and curated recommendations.We use cookies to collect information from your browser to personalize content and perform site analytics. One where the love, laughter, and food will overflow. We had so much freedom. Walls, beams, windows, a roof.
SHARE I walk somberly from room to room with my Canon, zooming in on every surface before snapping a photograph. And when the moving truck pulls away, it will be time to say so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, and goodbye forever to a place that was so much more than four walls and a roof.
Now, I get to bring my boys there to experience the magic I feel. My mom and dad fill the rooms with love, laughter, and faith. The house where I will always refer to as home is going to a young family. My mom had been lamenting the out-of-date decor for years, and when an offer fell into their lap, it seemed like a sign that it was time for a change. I had parked my crappy 1989 Oldsmobile there more times than I could count during my teenage years.After my parents told me their intention to move (albeit to a house five minutes away), a plethora of emotions fought for my attention. Although we are excited about new beginnings, new memories and new freedoms, nothing beats the comfort of home. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email. This house reflects the life and family my parents created together. I am paving the way for my daughters to be fulfilled women with lives and desires of their own.And yet, hypocritically, I couldn’t seem to extend the same courtesy to my own parents. I was desperate to cling to the house, the history. They deserve to start over in a new home without worrying about how it will affect their adult children. If only we could click our shoes and come home anytime we want.
They are human beings, enjoying their retirement and a slower pace of living. I was home. I hope they love this house and its surroundings as much as I did. I want to capture it all, to keep it.It was midwinter in South Dakota when my parents decided to sell the house that had been my home since age 13. In the middle of what we liked to call BFE. After almost 4 decades they are saying goodbye to my childhood home. I tell my children to find something else to do when I am busy working or talking with friends. The little boy or girl will lay their head in same room where I slept.
Mostly getting together for weddings and soon more funerals. Enough said. I could breathe again. I was unable to participate in the activities my friends did and hardly ever did my town friends come over. The Rolling Stones mournfully sang about wild horses, and I let the tears spill freely down my cheeks as we pulled into the steep driveway.