Our family has seen numerous changes over the last 13 weeks. Erik left his job of six years to pursue a contracting position out of state. During 
the two weeks prior to his leaving, we worked feverishly to ready our home for the market. Where we lived in Texas, houses don't exactly "sell like hot cakes" so we hunkered down for a long process. We set the house up like a model home and moved in with my parents shortly after Erik left for Kansas. The kids and I had two rooms and shared a "jack 'n jill" bathroom. The four of them in one room and I in the other we grappled to find a routine.
Ten days after our house hit the market, we had an offer. And then on June 26th, the house closed and became the property of a couple and their young daughter. The unbelievable speed with which it sold can only be attributed to God. There is absolutely no other explanation at all. Houses sit on the market for months in our area (in fact our neighbor had been trying to sell hers for about a year - same floorplan). I guess the Lord moved us out of the house in a gradual progression. However, the speed at which everything was taking place, left little room to reminisce or be sad. The night before closing day I cleaned my now empty house. This was our very first home and we were it's very first owners. My voice echoed against the walls I slaved over painting.
The kids rooms were painful to walk away from. Thinking of the sleepless nights, the cribs, the toys and the laughter had there. These are the only rooms they remember and for two of them, where they came home from the hospital. And now, they seemed so empty. The kids bath made me smile with it's bright colors. The walls still reflecting the adorable theme we enjoyed for so many years. Although the decorations
were gone, I could picture the silly frogs and crisp white towels as I turned out that light for a final time. As I walked down the hall I ran my hand along the wall where paintings of my children hung.
The hall emptied into the family room where I stopped and sighed. This was our "Texas Room" and where we spent most of our time. I thought of roasting marshmallows in that fireplace, the tickle fights on the carpet, my son throwing a brick through window and the games we played 
around the coffee table. And then there's the kitchen, the absolute center of the home. All the dinners and birthdays and pancakes. That backsplash that I painstakingly painted to look like real tile. The walls I papered with countless cookbook pages still looking back at me full of
memories. I looked into the "formal area" where we began our homeschooling adventures now over 4 years ago. My children learned to read there. We colored together and sang songs and wrote stories. We studied subjects and peered out the window on the few rare occassions we got snow. I thought about the Christmas mornings we spent in that room with the tree all aglow in the front window. My children's faces lit up and them sporting bed-head hair in their Christmas pajamas. The room looked so bare and lifeless with the only remnants of our personal touch being the red accent walls in the foyer and dining area. I laughed at the cornice boxes we were leaving, remembering 
the horrendous time we had constructing them together. Still, they turned out beautifully and had we known where we would end up, they'd be going with us.
And then our master bedroom. Only within the last year had we finally decorated it. The walls were still gold but that was all that remained. This was our little haven at the other end of the house, a place the kids weren't allowed. We laughed and cried in that room. Our bathroom was a tribute to our son, now in heaven. The t
heme was Angels and I'd worked to make it a retreat. Yes, I would miss having that space. Although at that hour I couldn't see much in the backyard, I knew the fort my husband built for our kids still stood out there. They were saddest to leave it of everything at the house.
It's hard to believe it's no longer ours. The memories we have will never leave us. I'm glad we had the opportunity to enjoy it for a time. God has so richly blessed us and even still, it is difficult to say "goodbye". Tears filled my eyes as I passed through the laundry room for the final time. All of the clothes I've washed there, having grown larger and larger each year from when newborns were in the house. I closed the door as I entered the garage. Pictured my kids learning to ride their bikes and bandaging scraped knees on the driveway. All the times we washed the cars together and soaked each other with the hose came flooding back and suddenly I couldn't stop those tears. Leaving the past, in the past, is so hard to do at times. As we pulled out, I took one last look, burning into my memory the home I loved. Maybe one day we'll go back to see it but for now, I'd rather remember the way it was when I left it. We are on to new adventures and are calling a new place home.
...To Be Continued