Recently we took the girls over to an old neighbor's house. Sara was to babysit for the first time since we moved. It was really strange driving up our old street. It made Michael sad. I think it was harder for him to move houses than anyone else. Even Addie mentioned that it was weird to not be able to go into our old house because other people lived there now. It left us with a strange, surreal silence.
And it left me thinking about what really makes a house a home? Is it merely the duration in which you live there? Or is it the number of memories you remember? Does it have something to do with the timing of your life? Do some homes mean more than others simply because of circumstances?
These are deep thoughts and some I doubt I can answer, especially right now with so many mixed feelings. So, instead of answering every question I ask in this blog, I will just post photos instead. Sound like fun? I thought so....
After these messages, we'll be RIIIIGHT back!