The House That Built Me

The first time I heard this song I teared up. It's a pretty song sung by a pretty girl with a pretty voice. It struck a chord deep inside me and stuck.  It's on my Ipod and I sing it ferociously each time it plays. At times, I repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat the song.  I like it that much.

It makes me think of MY home.  I want to believe it's how my kids will feel whenever I become rich and famous and move on to the mansion that is waiting for me.  But until that day arrives, this is my home...our home. 

I remember the very first time I noticed this house. Tyson had a paper route and this house was one of the homes we delivered to.  The first time I saw it, I loved it.  I remember thinking that it was such a pretty house and I thought through the "if only's".  You know... "if only I had such a pretty house like that for my kids."  "If only I had such a large yard for them to play in."  "If only I had a garage to park my car in." If only...if only...if only.  

Time passed on and I found myself in the market to buy a home.  I looked and looked for a house that wasn't a "cookie cutter" home.  I wanted a home with a yard, in the boundaries of the school that my kids were attending.  Nothing struck me.  Then while out looking I passed this house and saw it was for sale.  Too good to be true.  Long story short, here I am.  In my "if only" home.

I have raised a family in this home. I have memories oozing from the pores of the walls surrounding me. There has been laughter and tears, hope and disappointment, life and death...and more love than any human has a right to.

There isn't a room in this home that I haven't brought to life with a vision.  I have painted, nailed, ripped carpet, refinished floors, refinished cabinets.  My family has helped immensely.  Sometimes with blood, sweat, and swearing, (Goose and Mark)...and at other times quite simply by staying out of the way.  : )

Sometimes I think of moving on and it's too hard to swallow.  The next owners won't till the garden or mow the lawn and think of the animals that are buried beneath.  They won't laugh when they remodel the upstairs bathroom because how will they know about my best friend, Laurie, falling through the floor while removing the oh-my-gosh-it's-so-ugly-wallpaper and ending up with one leg dangling in the garage and me beside her screaming like a crazy woman because I thought her leg was broken...and the kids all yelling "cool" and running to the garage to check out her leg and Mark coming to see what all the ruckus was about and then only shaking his head in dismay while walking away without lifting a hand to help.  

How will they know that the reason there are flowers painted on my back porch is because my dear friend Denise died and her favorite flowers were poppies and that I missed her so badly and the ache was so immense that I painted them as a reminder to always tell the people you love that you love them.

Or the reason I have a back flower bed is because Mark chained the dogs to the trees and how he and I fought about it because I knew they would kill all the grass around them (and they did) because they were ALWAYS running back and forth attempting to reach the kids.

Or that the hole in the stairway is from Ernie making a quick U-Turn on the stairs and slamming his butt into the wall with Shelby laughing hysterically on the phone while telling me the story while I envisioned a little hole only to come home to a gaping cavern in my wall.

It seems (at times) that I get in the way of my own happiness.  I have wasted time wanting more.  When Miranda sings "I got lost in this old world and forgotten who I am".  I think of these times.  I think of the wasted time lost in the "if only's".  I don't want to do that.  I want to embrace the life that I have. I want to remember the very moment when this house became mine.  I am the blood, sweat and tears in the corners of these rooms.  This home has sheltered me through heartache and sorrow, through times when it hurt too much to stand.  Yet in these walls this family has built laughter, strength, courage and hope. 

This is the house that built me.