Though we are living in the “new” house, we still own the “old” house.  We are getting closer and closer to it actually being someone else’s house.  Today we will go and pack up some more things.  Haul out more stuff.  Though to be honest if I have lived all these months at the new house without this stuff at the old house I would gladly pay someone else to go move out the rest of the stuff.  If I don’t remember it’s there and I haven’t been looking for it, I don’t need it.  But when I go there today I will see things that I just can’t let go.  And it will be hauled back here to the “new” house to pack into an already cramped basement.  A basement that is waiting for it’s totally new remodel.  Then where will all of that stuff go?

But there are some things that I will have to pack up at the “old” house to bring with me.  Right there on that corner of the deck is where youngest  daughter spread  out the reindeer food for Santa’s fliers.  That spot right there, in the middle of the floor, is where our dinner table sat for years.  And for years we sat there every single evening to eat dinner.  Together.  Going over the day’s events.  Wondering how many days in a row oldest daughter could come home from school and say it was the worst day ever.   That bathroom is the same bathroom that oldest daughter would sing her concerts while getting ready for school, or dates.   It’s also the bathroom she sat in to eat her breakfast so she wouldn’t wake up her aunts, uncles and cousins who were spread about the house sleeping while mourning and preparing for their father and grandfather’s funeral.

This room in the basement holds so very much sweat!  It’s where I worked and worked some more to earn my black belt.  Then it turned in to a TV room and I was delegated to work out in the unfinished part of the basement over that way.   This room saw Christmas trees and pizza dinners.   And youngest daughter and I cowered down here during a tornado blitz while the other yay hoos went running upstairs to see if they could spot the tornado.

This bedroom belonged to youngest daughter.  And thankfully has been fully re-decorated from the time she was sick, and I walk in to find her sitting up and projectiling stuff like a rocket.   Gag.   Oh, and we took out the water bed that she insisted on putting all of her school books and bags on.   Well, we got rid of it when I went to my workout room below her and couldn’t figure out why I was being rained on…..

This big table that has replaced the little dining table.   It was made big.  So we could all gather around it.  To eat.  To work.  To have parties and celebrate.

And we did.

That spot right there?  Thats where I was when oldest daughter told me about the first to be grand baby.  The Irish Pirate Queen.

This room?  Where husband and I returned from our first trip to Ireland.  We opened the door and a flood of comfort overcame me.   It was so big compared to the suitcases we had been living out of.  It was the room where I convalesced after surgeries.   And the room where I relaxed and enjoyed gratitude that another day was done.  We were all safe.   And life is good.

This house has housed my family.   It grew as the family grew.   It got too big when they all left.

All of the important stuff I will pack up and carry out without having to break a sweat.

A tear or two.

But all of the moments that made it home?   I’ve done the smart thing and packed them as I go.  Carrying them.  Everywhere I go.  Revisiting them.  Where ever I am.  These are the things that I can’t, and wouldn’t, part with.  The important things from that house are already stored.

With me.