Today I pick up the keys to our new house (leased). I should be happy. It's a nice house and a great setup. It's $225 less than this one and even a bit better neighborhood (altho this one was fine too) .. since I'm still out of work, it was a wise decision.

But we've lived here 8 years.

I moved in with 4 kids, and now moving out with 2. One is at college & another got married in December. They still refer to this as home as well. They won't see the next house that way.

I am a relationship-oriented person. This is sad to me.

So many wonderful memories in this house. So much water under the bridge. So much great family bonding. And trust me I'm so happy I have that. I know we are blessed to have such a wonderful bond between us all. I know all families don't have that.

Good times. Fun, laughter, silliness. But tears, pain and sorrow too. Some broken hearts times, but a much larger portion of good times.

Just feeling nostalgic over the change. I know it's the only thing constant in life, but sometimes I wish it weren't 'there' yanno?

*sigh*

I hated leaving my first house too. It was the only place I'd ever really felt like it was 'home'.

Here's a copy of a little article I wrote, hoping that it gives you a bit of the same comfort it gave me while writing it.

"Home

My perception of home has changed over the years, both as I’ve aged, and as my life situations have altered; however, there are some consistent and constant ideas of home which I find comforting, soothing and invoke what I believe is a part of the circle of life.

Of course, literally speaking, home is just a place where one lives. It may be an apartment, a house, a condominium or any other number of physical structures. However, when one delves into the figurative realm, the magic and warmth that a true home offers, the joy and love are endless.

During the formative years, home was something where I sought refuge from hurtful events and harmful weather. It was a haven, which was provided by a mom and a dad who loved unconditionally. All of my needs were met; the physical ones, as well as the emotional and the spiritual. I was taught morals, ethics and manners. I was taught to give, without expecting anything in return except to relish the very joy of giving.

As I became an adolescent, home was where I found acceptance, in spite of not quite fitting in to groups that were being established at school. Parents who, continuously and optimistically, encouraged me to soar over and above what I myself thought I were capable of. I was raised to have high expectations of both myself, and others, and to constantly strive for improvement and ideals, while at the same time accepting and enjoying what and who I was. I was taught to be true to myself, yet was also shown, by their example, empathy and the value of working alongside my peers.

So home isn’t necessarily only the outside structure which is held together by brick, wood, or stone, but it is also the morals, the ethics, the love, the warmth, the value, the safety, the integrity, the haven, etc., which bind the structure and make it strong, impenetrable, loving, and lasting, which are the very foundations of a home.

I can honestly say that I grew up in one of the greatest homes ever, and now it is my turn to provide the same to my children, and pass the torch that my parents gave to me. And I can only hope that I come close to what they both offered, and achieved."


In other words, it is the family which makes the home what it is and from all that I see and all that I hear, you ARE family Judy.

((((Fade2Black))))

I am sorry you are going through this.

It's very painful.

Heres's to making some new memories though!

We are a family that has moved alot! But each time we bought our family love with us and every move we made a wonderful adventure. We have great memories of each place!

It was like that for me, too, when my parents sold the house that I grew up in. At the time my father bought it when he was 23 years old, it certainly wasn't much to write home about (no pun intended). It was built in 1888, and was originally a 2-story farm home on an acre of land. By the time Dad bought it, the barn was long gone. What basically started out (by that time) as little more than a shack, my father rebuilt into a home. This is noteworthy due to the fact that at that time, my father had absolutely no clue whatsoever about how to go about building or remodeling anything. He learned by either watching somebody else, or doing the "trial and error" method on his own.

He had no money to pay for any type of excavating service or machinery, so he literally dug everything that needed to be dug by hand, with a shovel. There was no garage at the place, and this is how he dug the foundation for a 2-car, 2-story garage -- all by hand. He poured all the footings for it himself (again, he had no clue how to do it, but he did it anyway). He built the whole thing by himself, from top to bottom. He also built a 1-vehicle metal shed with a full concrete floor (no knowledge). Out in back of the house, he built a full patio, complete with a permanent fireplace grill.

He built a playhouse for us kids. I'm not talking about the dinky little generic kind of playhouses you see in backyards these days. This thing was 10' X 12', and 12' high, with a 3-dormered roof, and an inside storm door with an outside screen door, a picture window, and another window you could open.

I remember when Dad built an addition onto the living room of the house, which doubled the size of the room, as well as created another room in the basement. He had gained a good bit of knowledge on how to build such things by this time, as well as a little bit of money to spend on machinery to move earth.

None of this stuff happened overnight. It was a long, ongoing, arduous process, and whenever he could afford another couple of boards or another sheet of sheetrock. There were no pneumatic or cordless tools at that time. Every nail was pounded in by hand with a hammer. Everything was lifted by hand. Every drop of blood shed was earned, all for a labor of love.

This was "home" for us for 33 years. Four kids grew up in this house. All the memories, all the changes, all the emotions, the Christmases, the parties, the different seasons, the years of toil on the house and yard. It was very emotional when all us kids had moved out and on with our lives that they decided to sell and move. By this time, they had built enough of a nest egg to build a brand-new house in a more upscale area. Don't get me wrong, it's a very nice house, but even after almost 16 years, it's still not "home".

In the past 16 years, the old house has been sold at least twice. Exterior changes to the house and yard are drastic. I went back during one of the times the house was on the market, just to go back home again, if even for a little while. Even the interior of the house had minor changes. The garage and shed were in an arguable state of disrepair, something my father would've NEVER put up with. The patio was unused and rusty, the basketball court was gone, the huge 20' X 125' vegetable garden had been sodded over, the 20' X 30 flower garden was sodded over, half of the two dozen apple trees in the backyard were gone. The only garden that remained was the small area of raspberry bushes, which were in desperate need of weeding attention.

It about broke my heart, and I actually had tears in my eyes as I drove away. That's when it hit me -- you really CAN'T ever go back again. All you have are your memories.

Take note of every moment of every day of your life, regardless of what they are, for good or ill. Cherish every one of them, because they'll never come again.

Change is often bittersweet...reading your OP made my heart really go out to you F2B. I get it and my best wishes go with you during this transition!
HUGS!!!

So well put Lisa. I don't share my private thoughts much online but needed an outlet when I woke unsettled middle of night.

I too had a wonderful, loving, secure and stable home as a child. I'm a 'memory maker' by traditions just like my parents were. I have wonderful thoughts of childhood, kind of like this little girl on the bike. We had a fabulous back yard with every kind of trike, swing set & other park-like equipment. Holidays were always steeped in traditions I too have passed down with my children.

I left that home when I was 17 though, because I failed at following my parents principles & found myself pregnant & had to marry the 'father' .. eeek. Even later tho, I moved back home to raise my oldest daughter by myself, but with her aunties assistance and her grandpa. My mommy had died very early and was no longer with us.

All that took place same house. Yes a lot is imbred in me regarding family.

I've moved a lot since. Through out my marriage and very earliest years of my children we moved quite a bit due to pastoring churches.

Interestingly enough it was when I went back to single-parenting that we stayed so long in this house .. I feel so good that I've given my children the roots I had.

But I think a lot of my sadness comes from having less children to move with. Of course that's what marriage and college do .. lol

I'm only moving with 2 of my 4 that moved into this house. The others won't see the new house as 'their home' from childhood when they come visit .. but as Debbie just reminded me .. maybe they will. The people they will come to visit (us =) are the same and we will have the same decorations at Christmas & same dinner at Easter.

YES! You are so right Lisa .. it's the people who make the family and we will always always always be close. I LOVE who 'WE' are

Thanks dear friend. for reminding me of that ..

Thanks Protein .. Yes even the move itself will make 'new' memories LOL

Especially if nothing gets broken.

Yes I totally agree with that .. it's just the moving in 8 yrs ago with more than I'm moving out with now .. only 2 going with to the new house .. THAT'S the adjustment I think.

First home was in San Diego, then the house we lived in, in Denver.
Then the house we bought as a married couple. My youngest was about two weeks old when we moved in there and she was ten when we left.
The new place here is Michigan was starting to feel like home again, but divorced changed all that.

My heart goes out to you with this story too Keith. We also had a playhouse lol. But it is so obvious you guys were 'a family' as well .. with many great memories. How wonderful to have all that recall about your dad and his blood, sweat and tears.

We lived in a small house as kids (4 of us too) but our memories as siblings were fantastic. It was in a great neighborhood and that's what mattered. I think our backyard was bigger than the lot the house sat on for sure. HAHA. And to us it wasn't 'THAT' small. When I went back years later to see it .. it looked so different. LOL

Yes we can never go back, but I have to believe we will go forward. A new season, new setup, but the love will fill the walls both from those of us living there, and those who 'return home' for the holidays and summer or whatever.

Yes it has a habit of doing that eh?

Thanks GG .. I really appreciate your note

May your New Home be filled with excitement and Many many more
Happy memories such that it is always where the action is!

When are the PaRtAyZ?

I've been in the Apt for a yr and a half now, and I don't know how I feel about this place. It's becoming more comfortable, but home???

Ha! If I throw a Housewarming Party all you guys betta be there!

You aren't that far from me, sista!

Well we went to the house yesterday and it was an icebox. They'd had the heat off .. no fun havin a party in the cold LOL We are expecting a major snow storm today .. silly people.

Hmmmmmmm what is a house but a shell??? Are you only your possessions????

Home is where you hang your hat. Life is where you and how you make it. Houses change......and so does life. Acceptance for the things we cannot change......

Huh? No one is saying we are our possessions ..

I was saying we will hold on to all the memories we made in that house. Thats' all.

Nothing wrong with being nostalgic