a sad day

Be warned, this post got long.

On Thursday the moving truck came to empty out the house where I grew up and yesterday my parents handed over the keys to some other family.  For a more upbeat post about this day, check out my sister's post on the subject.  But anyway, back to me. We moved onto Emerson Drive when I was about 8.  This picture was taken not long after we moved in:

So while I remember our house on New Street where I was (literally) born and the apartment on N. Mattis, this home has always been. . .well, home.  But on Thursday when I called the number that has been my home number forever, it was disconnected.  And I cried.

It doesn't really seem real that as of yesterday, I will have no reason to drive down this street again.  This mailbox has been many colors over those years.  It used to be yellow to match the door in the next picture.  And it had a blue phase as well.

Aww, weren't we cute?

 

That mailbox has held many important documents of mine over the years.  News of making the volleyball team, and then cheerleading.  A letter saying congratulations on winning the Golden Apple award, then my official high school diploma, then the acceptance letters to college, then my official college diploma. 

But now everything is gone.  Bare.  Even this picture looks bare.  No patio furniture.  None of my mom's beautiful pots of flowers. That driveway has seen lots of things over the years.  Plenty of summers with a little pool at the end of it to help us stay cool.  Lots of kick the can games with the neighbors.  It's also seen it's share of kisses in a car before getting inside right at curfew.

This is, I mean was, the family room.  Home of the brown flowered couch, then the multicolored furniture (that will continue to live on in their new basement).  And the piano.  I hope someday that piano will be mine. I'd love to teach my little kids the basics and then send them to someone who really knows how to play. 

Then there's the living room.  Let's take a look back quickly shall we?  The wall used to be white.  Then it went to a teal with lines that were painted on by holding a string tight and then snapping it on the wall.  There were so many pictures taken in front of this fireplace.  Holiday pictures.  And high school dances.  Lots of dances.

The primary colored kitchen held many memories.  Tons of birthday parties.  Dad cooking breakfast including pancakes and baby cereal made to each of our liking.  (yes you read that correct but that would take a whole other post).  Mom cooking EVERY meal.  Really.  We only got to eat out at Monicals once every 6 months or so. The second picture is after the fabulous makeover. 

On to the basement.  It used to have bare walls.  Then it went through the pink and purple sponge paint phase.  Then it got new carpet and got neutralized with tan and navy.  This basement holds so many memories.  Plays put on by the neighborhood kids, building tents and forts, playing house with our dolls, being entrepreneurs when we made pixie stick candy with sugar and Kool-Aid and then ate sold them, games of ping pong, feeding my hamster Butterball, and so many more.

The porch and backyard.  Home to my high school graduation party.  And lots of plays with the neighbors.  Tons of softball games with the trees marking the bases. 

I didn't get a picture of  the playroom where we had homeschool and where I typed many a high school paper.  Or a picture of my bedroom.  It doesn't really look like mine anyways since it belonged to Casey once I left for school.  But just imagine pink stripes with a ballet slipper border.  Then imagine pink, lacy, ruffly bedding.  Man I need to have a girl.  Ok, I'm digressing. 

It was definitely surreal as I walked through the empty house.  I'm sad that Owen won't get to grow up coming to this house.  But I'm super excited for what's in store for my parents in Peoria.  And they're new place is fabulous.  I'm actually trying not to be jealous.  Ok, I don't really know how to end this.  I'm sad.  I'm happy.  I might shed a few more tears.