In a matter of days, we will pack up the last of our things and move out of the Kinnaird home - the home that I have referred to as the "RG Homestead" for the past thirteen and a half years. In my whole life, this is the home I have consistently lived in the longest. My first home was in Bluffton, where we lived for nine years before moving to Fort Wayne. I lived in the Maple Grove home for the following ten years before moving on to college. Over the course of the next eleven years, I lived the dorm life, and in about five different apartments between Muncie and Fort Wayne.
It is crazy to think about transitioning away from this house after so many years. There are a ton of memories, both good and painful, that live in this house. Some I will take with me, and others I'm happy to leave behind.
I remember vividly how exciting it was to watch the movers bring our things into the Kinnaird home back in February of 2006. It was my first house - the biggest purchase I had ever made, aside from the trusty Camry I purchased as a newly graduated social worker, back in 1998. I was a newlywed and felt like I was on top of the world. I was able to get my son out of apartment living and into a house - with a yard, and space to move. It was my little slice of the American dream.
Over the years, the RG Homestead brought me some of my greatest joys. I brought my second son and my only daughter home here. I adopted my first puppy and brought her home to this place. I watched all three kids learn how to ride their bikes without training wheels. I have celebrated holidays with my entire family here. I have hosted countless porch, backyard BBQ, and New Year's Eve parties here. I opened my doors to friends of my children, neighbors in need, my closest friends, friends of friends, and members of our community. I have provided a safe place for anyone who needed a supportive ear or shoulder to cry on. I have initiated countless dance parties on early mornings when crabby moods have tried to prevail. I have helped the kids with hours and hours of homework (sometimes relying upon Uncle Google to help me solve math problems). I applied for, worked through, and finished my MBA in this home. I have laughed and laughed, even to the point of wetting myself. I have smiled proudly, listening to a variety of musical instruments play hour after hour.
I have witnessed life in this home. I have felt love and acceptance in this home. I have found peace in this home.
But I have also felt deep sorrow and pain in this home.
I was standing in the dining room when I received the call that my bonus brother, Tommy, (we didn't like the term "step-sibling") had killed himself. I was standing in the front yard when I learned that my cousin died suddenly, only two weeks after Tom died. I was sitting on the couch when my mom told me her sister died. And I was sitting at the dining room table when I learned my mom's other sister had finally passed after a short battle with cancer. It was here that I prayed and cried out to God - begging for the strength to carry on.
It was here that I discovered the affair my (then) husband was having, but did my best to hide that realization for months to come. I abruptly figured out how to single parent a newborn, a two year old, and a ten year old as my (then) husband walked out the door in search of his own happiness. I cried myself to sleep for months and months during that time of transition. It was here that I prayed and cried out to God - begging for the strength to carry on.
It was here that I came to rest every evening while my mom lay in the ICU at Lutheran Hospital or the Hospice Home. It was here that I came back to after watching her take her last breath. It was here that I sat, amidst piles of pictures and memories, in an attempt to create honorable memory boards for her Celebration of Life. It was here that I gathered with my mom's brother and sisters, my cousin, my dad, my bonus mom and sister, my friends, and my brother, sister, and niece in the hours before and after that service. It was here that I prayed and cried out to God - begging for the strength to carry on.
But most importantly, it was in this home that I grew as a woman - in my faith, in my peace and acceptance of who I am, and in my capacity to love, to be loved, and to understand love in its most pure form. I learned that I was much stronger than I ever realized. I learned that I am capable of managing an entire house on my own. I learned that I can pay the bills, solve problems, change light bulbs, fix vacuums, slay rodents, manage landscaping, and ward off all forms of the boogyman. I learned what it means to "know" when the perfectly fitted piece to your life's puzzle comes along.
It was here that I enjoyed my very first unofficial date with Bryan. It was here that we learned to enjoy the simple things in life together... like home-cooked meals, puzzles, quiet evenings together, and laughing over the silliest of things. It was here that I learned the value of patience and trust during the difficult times. It was here that I learned that the imperfections I see in myself are often the things Bryan loves the most. It was here that I finally felt I could be myself... no unhealthy compromises, no eggshells to walk on, no doubts, no fears. It was here and with Bryan, that I felt no uncertainty or worry about the future. It was here that I learned that every moment of life I have lived, up to the day Bryan left a simply sweet and adorable card on my front door to express his support and friendship, was preparation for this amazing and beautiful journey we are on together. Our little family is pretty fantastic and I couldn't be more excited for whatever our future holds!
And so, as we approach the day that we lock that door for the last time, I will soak up all of these memories for what they were and for how they helped me become the woman I am today. I will be thankful for every moment I ever experienced - good, bad, or indifferent - for they have brought me to a point of transition that can only lead to the best of what is to come!
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