This past weekend, our family took a trip back to our hometown of Gulf Breeze, Florida. One of my oldest and dearest friends, Sarah, is expecting her second little girl in a few weeks, and I was so happy to be able to celebrate her this weekend.
We spent the rest of our weekend spending time with Chris’s family. We hung out at his grandparent’s house, playing with a new remote control airplane out in the yard (which, incidentally, Bean and Chris have now accidentally crashed into our pool and are, at this minute while I sit here writing, trying to dry it out with my hairdryer).
It was a bittersweet visit, actually, as we learned last week that Grandma and Granddaddy have sold the home they have lived in for 45 years and are moving just down the road into a house that will be easier for them to manage. We are so happy for them to start this new journey, but it is sad to say goodbye to the home that Chris practically grew up in.
I can remember countless summer days spent drying out with saltwater in my hair on this deck after a day of jetskiing, boating, fishing, or swimming with Chris and friends. We’ve had family Christmas parties out here around a big fire pitt, and set of fireworks in the yard here on the Fourth of July.
We had a family luncheon on the lawn here the morning that Bean was christened, and when Chris’s grandmother made our wedding cakes, she set them on the table in the kitchen window the night before we were married.
I’m so glad that Chris grew up in this house. It is a huge part of who he is as a man today. And I’m even happier that I was able to spend my summer days (and sometimes the occasional sneaky summer night…) lazing around on this dock.
But I think I am happiest that Bean and Gracie have been able to run in this yard, fish off this dock, and run through this house, too.
Time marches on, and while I am certainly sad to know that coming “home” from now on will have a slightly different meaning, I remind myself that what has made this house a home are the people living inside of it.