Backdoor Memories

IMG_7119“Are you crying again?” my husband asks.

I reply, “NO!” as I desperately try to stop the sobs and tears rolling down my face. I was simply staring out the sliding glass doors in my kitchen as I washed them – doors I’ve looked out every day for the past 6 years. The images of the many scenes I’ve enjoyed quickly flood my mind: my first-born in a Tigger costume jumping on the trampoline (or brothers tackling each other on the trampoline), my second-born in full hockey gear trying to hit a ball off a tee, my boys sitting on the roof of the tree house so they can see over the privacy fence to talk to our 70-year-old neighbor.

IMG_2488To follow that last memory … there’s also the scenes that have scared the life out of me and sent me running outside after one or more of my boys: a dog the size of a pony getting over the fence, boys picking feathers off a dead bird, one brother chasing the other while holding a hammer, pants dropping and butts squatting when getting to the bathroom seemed impossible, tricycles taking a tumble down the deck steps. Memories of hours spent worm-digging and firefly-chasing.

These doors have been touched by dozens of fingers covered with mud and bug guts … they have been run into many times, stared out by longing babies not yet able to keep up with their older brothers. These are the doors we run to look out when it snows, or when we see squirrels fighting in the backyard, or neighbor friends standing by the fence wanting to come over and play.

***

IMG_4528_2We are moving for the first time. We are leaving the house that my husband was a bachelor in, brought a wife home to, and have raised three baby boys in. Our family has outgrown the size of this little home – but our hearts have not. There is something about your first home – or maybe it’s any  home where you grow as a family, as a couple … where you host strangers for the first time, strangers that become life friends, where you welcome neighbors into your life and watch them begin to trust and love you. As I walk through the house making sure it’s perfect for the next showing, I think about each room and the memories they hold. That spot on the carpet where Silly Putty still clings, the dent on the wood floor where the treasured Christmas snow globe dropped and tears flowed, the warmth (and fights) that one precious floor vent brings or the banged-up trim from roller blades.

Tonight, we close on our new house. We will slide the new key into an unfamiliar door and my kids’ voices will fill the house for the very first time. As we move on, the temptation to think that these were the best days of our life or even that the days to come will be the best days, overtake me. I remind myself, it’s not what we are leaving behind or what we are moving towards that makes us, but who we are going with and the experiences we take – that we make – together. It isn’t the house that makes those special memories, but the family and friends living life together inside.

IMG_4694I refuse to live crying over the past or clinging to the future. Whether it be packing away baby clothes or packing your baby for college – live your life at every stage, enjoying the character and experience change brings. Teach your kids that it’s what you make out of these moments and the attitude you take that makes life exciting.

These are the things I’m reminding myself as tears hit my keyboard …

Bridget
Bridget was the first of her six siblings to be born in Kansas City and she has lived here ever since. She met her husband when she was in the eighth grade; they have been married for five years and have two boys (Cooper is 4, Lewis is 2) with another boy on the way. Day-to-day life consists of being woken up face-to-face with someone asking for a cup of milk; picking up hockey gear around the house; trips to the park; laughing at her boys; attempting to catch up on laundry; and hearing lots of screaming and “I love you, momma”'s. Bridget loves to camp, lay on a hammock (often while pretending it's a ship being attacked by sharks), garden, picnic - basically all things outdoors with the exception of chiggers! Writing for a moms blog has been a top bucket list item and she is excited to be a contributor. She also writes at living with levins

3 COMMENTS

  1. I feel your pain. This time last year I was packing up the first home we ever bought. The home we brought our baby to and started a family in. Before each showing I would walk through and remember the window I sat in rocking my son to sleep, or where his pack n play went after he first came home from the hospital, or where his first steps were, etc. I cried my eyes out for weeks. See, we hadn’t outgrown the house. I was prepared to stay. But we were moving for my husband’s job here. Each state we drove through to get here made it a little easier. Once we hit state #3 I think I finally stopped crying and got excited to start our new adventure.

  2. Bridget! i was crying with ya! thanks for sharing those memories. I am so sentimental as well, i get it! I love all of your stories…and i just love y’all. I can come help if you need it. I have Mondays open if you need help unpacking or paining…whatever! Much love you to!

    kate

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