Packing Up the Memories

There’s a show on HGTV called “My First Place”, on which people take the big step from renting to buying.  As I begin to pack up and prepare to leave our little rent house, I am struck by how inaccurate it is to call the first home you own your “first place”. 

The house we live in currently is a cute little house built in the 60s and nestled back in the most beautiful woods you’ve ever seen.  It may not be “ours” legally, but in all other sense we’ve made it our own.  We’ve painted rooms and decorated walls, planted plants and put out bird feeders.  We relax in the living room at the end of the day, and cook good meals in the kitchen.  This little house truly is our “first place”, and with that comes a lot of memories.

This morning I started packing up some of the more formal dishes and things that we won’t need before the move.  As I pulled things out of the very top cabinet in the kitchen (standing on my handy-dandy stepstool of course), I was overwhelmed with the memories of moving in, just a very short time ago, as well as the memories we’ve made along the way.  As I pulled up the white lining I had put in the cupboards I remembered putting them in, carefully cutting each piece.  I remembered how I had tirelessly rearranged everything several times to make sure it all fit.  The blackened wicks of the candle sticks took me back to Valentine’s Day dinner, and the birthday candles made me think of all that was yet to come.  I smiled at the sight of the wedding gifts we had yet to use, but hope to someday soon.  Oh the plans we made and the dreams we dreamed, some big and some small, in this little house of ours! 

All these memories tugged at my heart, as I felt a twinge of sadness thinking of leaving it all…leaving our first place.  And yet I am ever so excited about owning our own home.  Fixing it up just the way we like it and making it truly “ours”.  Yet I know through all the years that I will never forget this little placed tucked away on Long Ave, the forgotten street as it seems.  Yes, this little place will always be our very first place.         

One thought on “Packing Up the Memories

  1. Wow, this made me tear up. Here's to the memories made in that dear little place, and here's to the memories still to be made. 🙂 Love you, T!

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