But, not so much anymore.
Because I kinda get sad about what's become of it.
It was purchased by a couple who had no intention of ever making it "their home." They were only interested in buying an "investment." Although, they did live in it for a short time to justify the type of loan they got on it, it's mostly been inhabited by renters.
I find myself being protective of our "Glover Lane Home" and I notice the details of things that are "wrecking" it - like they sprayed some yellow foam stuff in all the driveway cracks, and it's oozing out and looks.....SO not good! But, hey! that same driveway is full of snazzy, new cars; a red truck, a Cadillac, & black sports/luxury cars. (I'm afraid that's where their regard [& money] goes.) I cringe when I see all the things that the various renters are letting slide. Overgrown plants, weeds, dead grass - not that we are champion gardeners by any means - SCREAM out to me, We don't love this house. And that's sad to me because we did (in fact, I love it! are the exact words I exclaimed the moment our Realtor let us in to look at it all those years ago) - and I want it to continue to be loved! Sure, we ultimately outgrew it, and there were things [functionally] that were a nuisance, it didn't meet our needs anymore, that's why we built & moved, but I'm talking more about the HOME we loved. The HOME which holds our history, memories, & hearts. How could it not? We lived there for 11 1/2 years!
My friend & I sometimes walk by it on our morning walks, which we did this week, and like always, I check it out - any signs of love, attention, concern? I wonder if she notices that she kinda "loses" me in our conversation at that moment we pass it? It's weird....I KNOW, in my brain, it's my old home, but it's almost like it doesn't even seem like it. It's changed. It doesn't look as bright to me anymore. It's more somber & drab. (Although, to others not emotionally attached, it may still look the same?) Our kids have wondered aloud, if we ever drive by, what it looks like on the inside, now. Kyle, especially, wants to devise a way that he could walk through it again. The curious part of me also wonders and wants to take a look, but the other part of me doesn't - I might want to keep everything in my mind just the way I remember it!
{last photo as we drove away in 2012}
The day we moved all our stuff out, we were racing against a deadline and we didn't have a ton of time to get all sentimental and pay tribute to every room & such...AND we were sweating so much, I don't think there was any liquid left in my body to cry.
BUT, I still thought:
How could I let that thing go?
How can I let go of where all my daughters learned to walk?
They each learned to grab hold of the cabinet knobs & drawer pulls and "play" (read: empty everything out of) with the measuring cups, pots, water bottles, Tupperware containers that were inside.
How could I walk away from that kitchen where I prepared ten thousand meals, my children at my side (read: under my feet)?
My children built a gazillion forts and we had hundreds of Family Home Evenings in our living room.
There was the "time out" corner over on the staircase landing, that fit our time out bench perfectly, we used A LOT!
There were the stairs where a the children slid down laughing gleefully in sleeping bags or pillow cases.....and where brothers would chase/run from each other making the loudest pounding noise as they barreled down - which then, unfortunately, sometimes ended in a crashing sound as frames were knocked off the wall at the bottom.
We finished the basement, painted every room, remodeled one big bathroom into two separate bathrooms, and replaced all the flooring except for one room in that house while we were there!
There were big dormer window seats where the kids liked to sit upon & hang out. Kyle split his head open on one of the windowsills. The boys learned to shoot a basketball pretty darn well in that hoop we once had attached to the house (before the incident), then was replaced with a driveway basketball hoop.
We had 11 Christmases there. 59 Birthdays. Brought home 3 new babies. 3 Baptisms. 4 Priesthood Ordinations.
{Miss B's 1st Birthday - May 2009}
That home is where we built our family.
Back in Layton & North Salt Lake & Brigham City where we lived for six years before we moved here is where we were seedlings. We had just the two boys. We rented from apartment to apartment, and lived in a "starter home" too far north in Davis County for our liking. We weren't ready to settle.
But when we got to the "Glover Lane" one, we put down our roots.
And it's filled to the very brim with memories that have made our lives rich and beautiful.
There will always be a special spot in our hearts for that great home of ours we grew together in.
It's where we became "US."
There's a lot to say about a home and how it molds a family.
I'm so grateful that one that took care of us for so long.
{And, yes! we love our new home with all our hearts, too. (In case you were starting to doubt.) The memories have already started heaping up in this thing. Our next chapter is going to be amazing, as well.}
So, that's why I feel melancholy when I see the house these days - it appears they don't appreciate it the way I do. I feel like the renters will just keep moving in & out, then eventually move on and forget about it. I hope that someday it will be sold to a family who will be able to own it and live in it and love it again.
It just dawned on me that my feelings for our "Glover Lane" home might stem from one of my favorite childhood books, The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton.
Maybe that can happen to our "Glover Lane Home" too! :)
