We’re in the process of selling our home and relocating. I can already hear your thoughts. You might be feeling a twinge of envy, as packing up a house after six years of living in it—especially with three children in tow—sounds like an absolute joyride.
Let me assure you, it’s a complex experience. “The objective is to present it as a prospective buyer’s future home, rather than yours,” stated a real estate agent candidly.
I arrange for the carpets to be cleaned and scrub the walls until they shine. The smudges from little hands, the remnants of nail polish, and the wayward crayon marks all vanish (thankfully).
I organize closets, donate furniture, toss expired snacks, and gather countless stray coins (my spouse’s), Lego pieces (the kids’), and travel-sized lotions (mine). I tuck away the baby clothes and sleep sacks that have outlived their usefulness, only to stumble upon a treasure trove of memories.
I discover an old photograph my partner took of me just hours before proposing. Staring down at a VHS case in a video rental store, I was deep in thought over what to watch that night (ah, those carefree twenties!), looking back at my flat stomach and carefree days. I linger over it for a moment before deciding to leave it out on my dresser.
I carefully pack away picture frames filled with images of my boys—some capturing their cherubic baby faces, others showcasing the cheeky grins of toddlers. I hide away their cherished bedtime stories and pack up the “daily sheets” that document their daycare years—I’ve saved them all. The water table goes out to the curb, a bittersweet reminder of the joy it brought to the boys, now cracked from this winter’s chill.
I clear out my closet, saying goodbye to jeans that no longer fit. It’s a freeing experience. I finally dispose of my law school notes but keep that optimistic college essay on The Social Contract, tucked away under the bed, of course.
I also part with the rocking chair my mother used when I was a baby, despite its broken arm. It’s time to let go.
I clean, organize, and conceal, striving to make it appear as though we never inhabited this space. But the memories linger.
This is the carpet where my sons experienced “tummy time,” learned to crawl, and took their first steps. These hallways witnessed sleepless nights as we rocked newborns to sleep. The roof deck became our sanctuary when my spirited firstborn would only calm down in the cool summer air. The front stoop was my refuge during those lovely but lonely maternity leaves.
That scratch on the kids’ bedroom door? My son kicked it during a tantrum, sending it crashing into the bookcase. The marks on the kitchen cabinets? Evidence of our boys racing their bikes indoors to burn off energy during long winter days, when outdoor play was impossible.
This staircase? It’s where I settled during my first labor, counting and measuring the gentle contractions that marked the beginning of our family journey. The front door? We walked through it with each of our babies, bringing them home from the nearby hospital. That rocking chair in the corner? It cradled all three of my sons as I nursed them, while the soft melody of “Baby Mine” played in the background.
Now we prepare to move on. I know it’s the right decision. A new state, fresh schools, new jobs, and new friends await us—an exciting new chapter. But I will miss these playgrounds, the familiar streets, and the way my kids have memorized the route from home to school. It’s hard to reach the corner without bumping into a friend or neighbor, as they have become like family.
As I clean and declutter, I realize that it’s not about these four walls. What makes this a home isn’t the house itself. It’s the family we’ve built and the memories we’ve created here; they will accompany us wherever we go. It’s not about material possessions or even places. They shape who we are, and we take that essence with us.
We will do our best to present this house as someone else’s future home. But for now? It remains ours, and in many ways, it always will be. If you’re interested in exploring more about the process of home insemination, check out this insightful post here.
In conclusion, moving can be a challenging experience filled with mixed emotions. However, it serves as a reminder that our true home lies in the memories we carry and the love we share.