Tribute to Our Home
It was 2 weeks ago today that we pulled out of our driveway of the house I have lived in for 18 years. The house we bought when Shayla was 11 and Staci was 3 and I was a fresh new nurse with a job in L&D. The house where Sugar lived with us for 15 years, and where she died. Where Willie waited patiently for Staci or Ashton to come out to play. The backyard where Staci played in the treehouse Jerry built, the kids daydreamed or jumped on the trampoline, rode Banjo the horse, where Ashton caught fireflys on summer nights or rode the riding mower with Grandpa. Or where Jerry pulled the kids behind the Blazer on their tobaggan through the snow.
The house that Jerry and stepdad Earl put down hardwood floors, where Jerry and Staci remodeled the bathroom. The basement Jerry finished, where Aaron asked for Shayla's hand in marriage. Where we watched TV, movies, and "24". Where I exercised while listening to KLOVE. The yard that Jerry landscaped. And the garage that he built. Where our boat was kept. And the dirtbike. Where Ashton broke his leg.
The house where the Bellands lived with us when Ashton was a toddler-where he took his first steps on Staci's high school graduation day. Where Sadie's first birthday party took place, and I stayed home with her and nursed her through a fever while others walked to the lake to watch fireworks. The lake where this year we watched the fireworks together from our boat, with the kids bundled in their jammies. The lake where Jerry and I walked and walked and walked. And talked, dreamed, planned and problem solved. Where we had Memorial Day breakfast picnics with Earl and Arlene as the girls grew up, and then Aaron and Ashton and Sadie joined us.
The house where 18 Christmases and 58 birthdays were celebrated. The kitchen where hundreds of meals, Christmas cookies and cinnamon rolls were made together The kitchen table where meals, coversations, games, Bible study, prayers, laughter and tears were shared. Where the kids colored and Staci and I put together her scrapbook. The kitchen sink where I washed and Staci dried. And we talked or enjoyed each other's company in silence.
The home of Heartland Midwifery, where nearly 50 moms and babies (including Shayla and Ashton) came for prenatal care.
The bunkbed where I laid with Ashton to tuck him in at naptime or sleepovers. Where I sang his songs: Jesus Loves Me, Happy Birthday, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, The Alphabet song. And said prayers and read books and told stories and snuggled and wrestled and kissed him goodnight. And invariably I cried. Funny how the second time around you know it won't last. In the blink of any eye, they're grown and gone. I always knew the day would come-I treasured every moment we had. I never dreamed it would come like this. Or this soon.
The room where I held Sadie in my arms and sang to her and prayed over her before laying her in the crib where she slept and woke up asking for Mommy and/or nursey. The living room where Shayla nursed her children as we visited. Where I spent many hours in solitude, reading or praying
The bedroom where Jerry and I loved and fought and talked and prayed and slept and snuggled and played. Where Staci and I gave each other long backrubs and had heart to heart talks and practiced our scripture memory.
This is the house that love built. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is still at home there, even while I'm living and working 1250 miles away. Don't know what the future will bring but trusting in God's word that HE knows the plans he has for me-plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future. I am so grateful that I can return to the home in Kansas in 2 weeks for what will likely be our last Christmas at 2444 SE Eveningtide Way.
The house that Jerry and stepdad Earl put down hardwood floors, where Jerry and Staci remodeled the bathroom. The basement Jerry finished, where Aaron asked for Shayla's hand in marriage. Where we watched TV, movies, and "24". Where I exercised while listening to KLOVE. The yard that Jerry landscaped. And the garage that he built. Where our boat was kept. And the dirtbike. Where Ashton broke his leg.
The house where the Bellands lived with us when Ashton was a toddler-where he took his first steps on Staci's high school graduation day. Where Sadie's first birthday party took place, and I stayed home with her and nursed her through a fever while others walked to the lake to watch fireworks. The lake where this year we watched the fireworks together from our boat, with the kids bundled in their jammies. The lake where Jerry and I walked and walked and walked. And talked, dreamed, planned and problem solved. Where we had Memorial Day breakfast picnics with Earl and Arlene as the girls grew up, and then Aaron and Ashton and Sadie joined us.
The house where 18 Christmases and 58 birthdays were celebrated. The kitchen where hundreds of meals, Christmas cookies and cinnamon rolls were made together The kitchen table where meals, coversations, games, Bible study, prayers, laughter and tears were shared. Where the kids colored and Staci and I put together her scrapbook. The kitchen sink where I washed and Staci dried. And we talked or enjoyed each other's company in silence.
The home of Heartland Midwifery, where nearly 50 moms and babies (including Shayla and Ashton) came for prenatal care.
The bunkbed where I laid with Ashton to tuck him in at naptime or sleepovers. Where I sang his songs: Jesus Loves Me, Happy Birthday, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, The Alphabet song. And said prayers and read books and told stories and snuggled and wrestled and kissed him goodnight. And invariably I cried. Funny how the second time around you know it won't last. In the blink of any eye, they're grown and gone. I always knew the day would come-I treasured every moment we had. I never dreamed it would come like this. Or this soon.
The room where I held Sadie in my arms and sang to her and prayed over her before laying her in the crib where she slept and woke up asking for Mommy and/or nursey. The living room where Shayla nursed her children as we visited. Where I spent many hours in solitude, reading or praying
The bedroom where Jerry and I loved and fought and talked and prayed and slept and snuggled and played. Where Staci and I gave each other long backrubs and had heart to heart talks and practiced our scripture memory.
This is the house that love built. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is still at home there, even while I'm living and working 1250 miles away. Don't know what the future will bring but trusting in God's word that HE knows the plans he has for me-plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future. I am so grateful that I can return to the home in Kansas in 2 weeks for what will likely be our last Christmas at 2444 SE Eveningtide Way.
posted by kirsten | 6:14 PM
3 Comments:
well yes, as grammy r told me, the only thing that hurts worse than caring, is not caring. i love you, mom. you are safe in His arms.
You once told me, Staci, it IS better to love and lose than to never have loved. But I'm determined to find what's been lost. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
Enjoyed your blog, wondered if you would email me...I am also a CNM
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