J O R D I E & D O R I A
I keep promising my brand new neighbors that “I’ll never mention it again” and I mean it, but this is OFFICIALLY the last time! It’s a long one. Sorry,/not sorry…
So there was this house. It used to be my house/our house/“the house”. My growing family outgrew that house, we sold it and moved next door. It was our first home. I could go on and on and onnnnn. All of “the special things” happened for our family in that little house – All of them. We all know it’s not really the house that makes a home, it’s the beautiful memories that are created within it and boy oh boy, we sure did that.
In the 10 years since we’ve left, I often felt what I can only describe as “homesick” for that house. Jealous that others were there and maybe worried that they didn’t love it as we did. As a matter of fact, I refused to go back.
I never wanted to see it any other way than how I remembered it. I found myself at the doorstep multiple times… there to see the neighbor or drop something by, but always refused to step inside, fearing that it would alter all of my beautiful memories.
And then, the wonderful neighbor that purchased the house from us 10 years ago called me up to list and sell the house… My initial thought was no. Actually – HELL no! Listing the house would mean having to go inside and I honestly wasn’t sure if I could!
But I did. I listed it. I considered turning down the opportunity to save my heart, but in a weird way, I didn’t trust the job to anyone else. I know that old gal better than anyone out there and knew that if anyone could sell what life would be like living there, it was me, because life there simply put, is fabulous.
The house was emptied in preparation for its new chapter and as the Realtor on the job, I found myself back at the house one day all alone. As I turned to leave, having accomplished the task I was there to do, I paused, sat up on the counter and looked around. It was like someone had hit the rewind button and there I was. All of the walls had remained the same colors that we had painted them, the baby’s room still glowing a soft green and blue from across the living room. I could picture the Christmas tree in the far corner and remembered how proud we were to have installed the crown molding that circled it. We so proudly kept the butcher block island meticulously oiled and took pride in the granite tiled countertops. I replayed the memory of Tyler getting down on one knee and asking me to marry him beside the chimney that I had exposed with the claw of a hammer. And through the bedroom door, I giggled remembering how long we left the cradle in our room before we were brave enough to let the baby sleep in his own room. First dogs, first steps, big heartbreaks… I sat there, (ugly) cried out loud and it was the therapy I think I’d needed for 10 long years.
Unable to meet my new neighbors at the home on possession day, I came a few days later. I was nervous and hoped my reaction would ooze genuine happiness for the happy homeowners, who like we had, are starting their beautiful life together in “that house”.
They’d had time to make it their own, to paint the walls new colors and add their own personal touches. And for the first time in 18 years, I walked in and it was different. It was theirs and this will be the house that builds their family and their life together.
I got the grand tour… room by room, each a new color with a new purpose and plan. An incredible new barn wood wall adorned the living room, with their furniture looking as though it was made to fit perfectly in the space. Their adorable pets are already comfortable in their new surroundings and as dinner cooked in the kitchen while we talked about future dreams and plans for the house, it felt right.
Jordie and Doria… May this be “that house”. May all of your dreams come true between these walls and may you build a life here that will make you feel the same way about a silly old house that we do. May you take pride in every square inch and may love and laughter always bless you as deeply here as it did for us. May the memories you make here be the most special ones… all of the firsts that can only ever trace back to where you started. May those 4 strong walls always keep you safe and warm and may you never forget that if you ever need a cup of sugar, I’m right next door.
? Cheers to “that house”… I’ll never mention it again. Promise.