When the beginning starts at the end

Hi there. I have resurrected my writing ambitions in order to document the act of love that will be the new short sale home we are buying. It’s finally far enough along in the process that we are certain now it will be our next home. And project. For a long while. But to begin this next chapter, we have to close the door on the last one . A lifetime ago Dylan and I were desperate to move out of a lame apartment in the Portland suburbs. We had a tiny down payment. And after months of looking, we found an ugly duckling of a house in an area of the city that seemed like it had some potential. This was 5 1/2 years ago. We said it would be a 5 year house from the beginning. We could put our blood, sweat, tears and a little bit of money into it and then move onto bigger and better. And that’s exactly what we did.
At times we were without heat. Water. A shower. A kitchen. never a toilet, thank goodness. I sat awake the night before our wedding in that house, alone. Watching tv in the basement when I couldn’t sleep. We brought our daughter home 5 years later. I’ve painted too many walls too many times to keep track of. Those walls have seen more parties than I can count. More drinks spilled, glasses broken, and friends and families voices and laughter. We grew up in this home and became a family.
So I had to get this out. To say goodbye. Because my reality is that I’m writing this on an airplane and when I pull up to my house this afternoon, there will be a for sale sign in the front yard. And the weekend will be filled with strangers wandering those halls, envisioning what their life will look like there. So while I have wandered the halls of our next home with excitement and a mind bustling with ideas to make it our own, I now have to let others do the same to the place we have called home for so long. And it makes my heart hurt a little to let that go.
or maybe a lot.
But deep down I know we will always have those memories and stories, even as we head east 13 blocks.

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