This is our old house.
It was where we brought our baby home from the hospital. And where he learned to crawl, walk, and talk. It’s where J and I became a family of three.
We celebrated 3 Christmas’ in this house.
We raced remote control cars in the driveway and drew animals on the sidewalk with chalk.
It’s where J and I got engaged.
I cooked hundreds of meals in this house and we had lots of family dinners. We even had a few picnics in the living room.
This house kept was warm during the 23+ inches of snow we got one Winter.
There were lots of laughs and some tears. But this house was our home.
A little over a month ago we moved into our new house. The first week or so I really missed our old house. And as silly as it sounds, I was pretty sad.
I missed the old house. I couldn’t think about the old house and all the memories that came with it without getting tearful.
And then one night as I was getting ready for bed, our new house started to feel a little more like home. I finally felt like living at the new house was becoming normal.
I will always think fondly of our old house. We had lots of great memories there. But the memories don’t live in that house.
We love our new home. It has lots of space to grow. There will be plenty of Christmas’, birthdays, dinners, and laughter. Maybe we’ll even bring another little Fish home here.
But no matter what house we live in, as long as we have our family, we will always have a home.
