I've been putting off updating my blog ever since we moved and I think subconsciously it was because by documenting our last few weeks in Jackson, I would be admitting that this move really happened. That we're really gone. That the best chapter of our lives thus far is really over. I've never allowed myself to get this far behind on my blog before because this is my outlet, my happy place and the place I come to eagerly share all of the memories our family makes. It's my greatest treasure and a keepsake that I hope to keep going for as long as I'm alive. But lately the excitement to write and share just hasn't been there. It wasn't until recently that I realized it's probably because these are hard and sad and tough things to share and by documenting them, I'm accepting that they came to be.
We've been living in Texas for almost four months now but most days I still walk around in a lonely fog wondering what we're doing here and why we left behind such an amazing life that we loved SO much. I have a brand new beautiful house in an amazing neighborhood but my heart is just plain sad and no amount of time or new friendships or home decor shopping has seemed to help. But those are stories for another day. Maybe by reflecting on our last few happy memories from Jackson in this post my heart will find some joy again.
Backing waaaaaay up, we returned to Jackson from our cruise at the end of July and that meant there were only a few weeks left for us there. In fact, Matthew would be starting to work in Dallas the first part of August, leaving me and Kyndall behind to get the house sold and wait for the new house to be ready in Texas. Reality was starting to sink in--We were down to our last days of living as a family in our beloved home.
Every single time I saw this sign in our yard my heart broke a little more. I couldn't believe we were actually about to sell the first home we've ever owned. This home, although only ours for 2.5 years, will always hold some of the most precious memories for our family. I really thought we'd live in it forever. I really thought someday we'd even talk our parents into moving to Tennessee and living just down the road. I thought surely this was our final resting place after moving for so many years.
Every single time I saw this sign in our yard my heart broke a little more. I couldn't believe we were actually about to sell the first home we've ever owned. This home, although only ours for 2.5 years, will always hold some of the most precious memories for our family. I really thought we'd live in it forever. I really thought someday we'd even talk our parents into moving to Tennessee and living just down the road. I thought surely this was our final resting place after moving for so many years.
After only a few weeks on the market, our home sold which was very bittersweet. Since we had already purchased a new home in Texas, we were thankful to have this behind us but as I said, it was just another confirmation that this was really about to happen. The house was sold and would soon belong to another family....There was no turning this around now and that was a hard pill for me to swallow.
These four walls represented much more than just a house--It was truly a home. OUR home. The first one we had ever owned as a family.
In November of 2013 we got the keys to our home. In some ways that feels like just yesterday and in others it feels like a lifetime ago.
If the walls in this house could talk, they'd tell stories of laughter and tears and sickness and healing. It was our safe haven during some very dark days and the place where I found refuge and solace both during my time of sickness and my time of healing after transplant. It's where Bible studies and cook outs and sleep overs and baby showers were held and where we had our first real Christmas tree.
The backyard is where we hoped to put in a giant swimming pool someday and where Kyndall played on her first trampoline, climbed her first tree and where she ran and played with our two dogs.
Our back patio holds memories of gathering around our fire pit on late summer nights and cool winter evenings as we roasted marshmallows and hot dogs with friends and family.
The road in font of this house is where Kyndall and her friend across the street would meet in the afternoons to play and where we took nightly walks and bike rides as a family.
The front yard is where we flew kites in the springtime and where we ran through the snow in the winter. That hill at the edge of the yard is where I tirelessly drug Kyndall around on a plastic sled on snow days as she giggled and screamed with delight. It's where she built her very first snowman and had her first snowball fight. Matthew spent hours every single Saturday mowing this large yard and taking care of the landscaping. I used to tease him that he loved his yard more than he loved me.
That driveway and sidewalk are where we surprised Kyndall with her new pink Jeep and where we had water balloon fights and played in the sprinkler on hot days. It's where puddles were splashed in during rainy afternoons. It's where we would stand to gaze at the indescribable beauty of a Tennessee sunset and the amazing wonders of a clear, starry night out in the country away from the city lights.
That bright pink paint on the bedroom walls was chosen by a very opinionated 3 year old Kyndall and it's in that same sweet room that she transitioned from a crib to a toddler bed to an adult bed. Many nights I would end up falling asleep in that pink bedroom as I promised to lay with her "just for a while".
Countless hours were spent upstairs in that big messy playroom as we sat on the floor as a family and watched movies, played board games and were entertained with singing and dancing performances from Kyndall the great. It's where she practiced piano and where I nearly pulled my hair out making her do so. It's in the corner of that playroom where she discovered her love for art and crafting as evidenced by those walls which displayed all of her masterpieces.
That kitchen was filled with the smell of cinnamon rolls on Saturday mornings and popcorn on Friday nights and it's where Kyndall found a love for cooking as she helped me prepare dinners and assisted in packing her lunch. It's where some of our most important and meaningful conversations took place as we shared meals together around our table as a family each night. It's where Kyndall enjoyed helping me mop and sweep the floors as she learned about responsibilities.
Our bedroom is where I personally spent much of my time, curled up (many times in pain) in the comfort of my bed as my body got the rest that it desperately needed. It's where friends came and prayed over me and where Matthew and I had our own nightly prayer time together. It's also where Kyndall sweetly "surprised" me by decorating the end of our bed with colored pipe cleaners on a day when I was stuck in bed. I actually left them there the entire 2.5 years that we lived in the house because she was just so proud. It hurt to take them off when it was time to stage the house for selling.
The big garden tub in my bathroom is where Kyndall liked to sit and watch me put on my make up as we talked about life and solved the world's problems together.
That front door window was usually covered in smudges and smears as Kyndall pressed her nose against the glass each night looking for frogs. It's on that same front porch where she would chase and eventually capture those frogs, as I watched from the safety of the living room and refused to go out. The front porch was our go-to picture spot and I must have hundreds of photos of our family on that porch in front of our shiny black door.
I could go on and on but as you can see, this house holds many, many memories for us. It's in this house that I found myself the most peaceful and content and happy that I've ever been in my life. I realize it's just a "thing" and "things" don't make us happy, but it was in this house where we lived out some of the toughest but most wonderful seasons of our life. As the song goes, it's "the house that built us". I don't care how many houses we own in the future, there will never be a place quite as special as our very first home.
I took some pictures of our house while we were staging it to sell because my hope is that despite being so young, Kyndall will hold onto memories of this place. Even though many of our pictures and personal items had already been removed, I still pray these photos will always remind us of this time and this place.
These four walls represented much more than just a house--It was truly a home. OUR home. The first one we had ever owned as a family.
In November of 2013 we got the keys to our home. In some ways that feels like just yesterday and in others it feels like a lifetime ago.
If the walls in this house could talk, they'd tell stories of laughter and tears and sickness and healing. It was our safe haven during some very dark days and the place where I found refuge and solace both during my time of sickness and my time of healing after transplant. It's where Bible studies and cook outs and sleep overs and baby showers were held and where we had our first real Christmas tree.
The backyard is where we hoped to put in a giant swimming pool someday and where Kyndall played on her first trampoline, climbed her first tree and where she ran and played with our two dogs.
This porch is where she and I would sit almost daily and enjoy the fresh air, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company.
Our back patio holds memories of gathering around our fire pit on late summer nights and cool winter evenings as we roasted marshmallows and hot dogs with friends and family.
The road in font of this house is where Kyndall and her friend across the street would meet in the afternoons to play and where we took nightly walks and bike rides as a family.
The front yard is where we flew kites in the springtime and where we ran through the snow in the winter. That hill at the edge of the yard is where I tirelessly drug Kyndall around on a plastic sled on snow days as she giggled and screamed with delight. It's where she built her very first snowman and had her first snowball fight. Matthew spent hours every single Saturday mowing this large yard and taking care of the landscaping. I used to tease him that he loved his yard more than he loved me.
That driveway and sidewalk are where we surprised Kyndall with her new pink Jeep and where we had water balloon fights and played in the sprinkler on hot days. It's where puddles were splashed in during rainy afternoons. It's where we would stand to gaze at the indescribable beauty of a Tennessee sunset and the amazing wonders of a clear, starry night out in the country away from the city lights.
That bright pink paint on the bedroom walls was chosen by a very opinionated 3 year old Kyndall and it's in that same sweet room that she transitioned from a crib to a toddler bed to an adult bed. Many nights I would end up falling asleep in that pink bedroom as I promised to lay with her "just for a while".
Countless hours were spent upstairs in that big messy playroom as we sat on the floor as a family and watched movies, played board games and were entertained with singing and dancing performances from Kyndall the great. It's where she practiced piano and where I nearly pulled my hair out making her do so. It's in the corner of that playroom where she discovered her love for art and crafting as evidenced by those walls which displayed all of her masterpieces.
That kitchen was filled with the smell of cinnamon rolls on Saturday mornings and popcorn on Friday nights and it's where Kyndall found a love for cooking as she helped me prepare dinners and assisted in packing her lunch. It's where some of our most important and meaningful conversations took place as we shared meals together around our table as a family each night. It's where Kyndall enjoyed helping me mop and sweep the floors as she learned about responsibilities.
Our bedroom is where I personally spent much of my time, curled up (many times in pain) in the comfort of my bed as my body got the rest that it desperately needed. It's where friends came and prayed over me and where Matthew and I had our own nightly prayer time together. It's also where Kyndall sweetly "surprised" me by decorating the end of our bed with colored pipe cleaners on a day when I was stuck in bed. I actually left them there the entire 2.5 years that we lived in the house because she was just so proud. It hurt to take them off when it was time to stage the house for selling.
The big garden tub in my bathroom is where Kyndall liked to sit and watch me put on my make up as we talked about life and solved the world's problems together.
That front door window was usually covered in smudges and smears as Kyndall pressed her nose against the glass each night looking for frogs. It's on that same front porch where she would chase and eventually capture those frogs, as I watched from the safety of the living room and refused to go out. The front porch was our go-to picture spot and I must have hundreds of photos of our family on that porch in front of our shiny black door.
The living room is where we cuddled up by the fire, where we gathered with friends and where Kyndall danced on the her "stage". It's where I spent many, many late nights pacing the floor thinking, worrying and anticipating. It was truly the heart of our home and it's the place we laughed, cried, prayed, argued and celebrated the most.
I could go on and on but as you can see, this house holds many, many memories for us. It's in this house that I found myself the most peaceful and content and happy that I've ever been in my life. I realize it's just a "thing" and "things" don't make us happy, but it was in this house where we lived out some of the toughest but most wonderful seasons of our life. As the song goes, it's "the house that built us". I don't care how many houses we own in the future, there will never be a place quite as special as our very first home.
I took some pictures of our house while we were staging it to sell because my hope is that despite being so young, Kyndall will hold onto memories of this place. Even though many of our pictures and personal items had already been removed, I still pray these photos will always remind us of this time and this place.
We've been married for almost 8 years and we've lived in four states, five cities and six homes but none will ever hold a candle to 4 Walter Kee Drive in Medina, Tennessee. Selling it and saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
The house was officially sold within just over a month after listing and the closing date was set for September. We would already be gone by then so we signed over power of attorney to our realtor who would take care of signing our papers. I never got the opportunity to meet the new owners but I hope they love and cherish this home just as much as we did when it was ours.
The house was officially sold within just over a month after listing and the closing date was set for September. We would already be gone by then so we signed over power of attorney to our realtor who would take care of signing our papers. I never got the opportunity to meet the new owners but I hope they love and cherish this home just as much as we did when it was ours.
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ReplyDeleteMy other comment had spelling mistakes so here's what I said in a nutshell: NAMASTE 🙏 I thank you for being you
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