This Old House is MY first house. The house that Daniel and I chose after a summer of driving aimlessly around the streets of Austin on the weekends, picking up flyers as we went. What a fun summer that was... listening to music with the windows down, sharing a snack at Sonic, playing golf and eating Mexican food in the evenings. And This Old House is what we chose. And it wasn't great... but it was good.
This Old House is where we started having family Christmas gatherings when my grandparents moved into a retirement home. It's where THIS happened one year. It's where my mom's side of the family stood around singing Christmas Carols as my grandmother asked "what key?" and played her mother's piano. Played songs she can't ever forget though she now can't remember much at all. And it was priceless... and it was good.
This Old House is where we have had parties... oh, the parties. For friends about to have babies, with friends celebrating the new year, with people we hardly know at all as we get to know them, for family BBQs and fancy dinner parties and football and birthdays and for no reason whatsoever. And for going away. And it was FUN and it was sad. But it was good.
This Old House is where my sister and I did this. I think about it sometimes and feel happy and warm and good about those days. They were sweet and very good.
This Old (Old) House is where my mom and I spent hours and days and weeks getting ready for the-artist-formerly-known-as "Buddy." We cleaned, talked about baby names, redesigned the entire front of the house... in short, we nested. And the nesting was so exhausting. But the house was FINALLY great. The house was finally a home. And the process was so good.
This Old House is where we brought Charlie home. Where he fell in love with his family and where they fell in love with him. Where he sat and rolled and walked and talked and pushed and ran and met his sweet friends for the very first time. This is where we spent precious moments, the three of us, snuggled in bed in the mornings and where we waved bye bye to Dada every day when he went to work and where we stared out the window and squealed every day when he came home. We will do that in the next house... but this is where we did it first. This Old House is where we took thousands of pictures that will always remind us of This Old House. These days were the very definition of good.
This Old House Is JUST a house. But that's not what it represents. It means friends, family, faith and firsts. The only things that make life good.
And This Old House is where we are moving... for now. And I just keep reminding myself that it too will be good.