Today I spent an entire day cleaning an empty house and for the majority of the time I was in the 'I just want to get this done so I can check this off my to do list' mindframe. We have been out of our first home for a little over a week and when I was vacuuming the living room it hit me. We will no longer be calling the house on Arabian Way "Home". The tears started coming and I could have easily mopped the floors with the size of tears that were falling. The memories of the last nine years started flooding me and at that moment I wanted to drive and grab my family and bring them back home. As I pushed the vacuum back and forth I found myself revisiting so many moments that happened within those rooms:
Sitting on lawn chairs in the living room when we first moved in because we had to wait 6 weeks for our couch to arrive. Putting in a screen door that should have only taken a couple of hours but instead took a whole day. Painting room after room and then repainting because I didn't like the first color I picked. Shaving Paul's hair on the back patio when the chemo was doing its job. Having friends over for dinner and them knowing where everything was because they practically lived there too. My mom telling me my brother was having a baby when we were struggling so hard to have our own. Too many fights over finances (they can't all be good memories!). Bringing Bailey home and sleeping next to her crate. Watching Bailey do complete somersaults when her body got ahead of her. Bringing two little girls home and realizing I had no idea what sleep deprivation was. Sitting on the bed and watching as Paul found out his Grandpa John had gone to heaven. Knowing who belonged to each car that drove past our house. The moment of walking to the office with a positive pee stick in total disbelief that we had done it the old fashion way. Another positive pee stick and standing in the shower laughing and crying at the same time because we had done it again. The pain of knowing I was miscarrying for a third time. 2am feedings when everyone else was sound asleep and I was up nursing my babies and everything was right in the world. Realizing my spray tan had just been ruined with tear streaks down my face after getting the call that our baby had a cleft lip and we where leaving for vacation early the next morning. Hours spent in the bath as my body grew 4 babies at one time. The smell of Lanolin bringing me back to the days following childbirth. The love, passion and the feeling of being totally comfortable with someone you have spent more years with than apart. The giggles of my children playing outside. The smell of fresh cut grass. The door slamming from children who are trying to figure out how to voice their frustrations. Pure contentment when I walk in the door and hear "mommy's home" in a voice that you know you are loved. Watching four babies all sleeping in one room. Bailey meeting the twins for the first time.
Even though the house is completely empty I can still feel all the emotions of what made our house a home. Without a single piece of furniture or a single picture hung those four walls is where home still is. I know that eventually our new place will start to feel like home as we make new memories as a family. Our old house will now be home to P, E, S & A and I hope it will quickly become more than just wood and stucco to them and their two blue eyed little girls. Letting go is sometimes so hard only because we never know what the future will hold and the past has already been painted. For tonight I am going to fall asleep in my new bedroom cherishing all that was painted on Arabian Way and anticipating the blank canvas that lays ahead of us.