A little about me and my family...

My photo
My love of people, photography and the world began as a child. My family moved a lot and taking pictures was my way of remembering friends, capturing special places or moments and holding them close. Becoming a wife and a mother has always been a dream of mine and I count my blessings daily. I started this blog shortly after our daughter, Yaya joined our family through the blessing of adoption. Its purpose was to share pictures and stories about our life with family and friends. Later, it shared our adoption journey to our second daughter, Baby Bird as well. Now that our family is complete I like to think of it as our family’s journal or life book. I'm passionate about life, my family and preserving our history one snapshot at a time. The thing that amazes me most is the abundance of beauty God blesses us with every day and in the simplest ways if only we take the time to slow down and appreciate them.

Friday, April 16, 2010

This is the house


where my family and I laid down our deepest roots. After years of moving from one place to another this is the house we finally settled down in and still consider "home" today. It's also one of the last places my mom and I stopped while we were in KC. When we moved in the house was stained brown and the shudders were a dark burnt orange. The tree in front was about 6 feet tall and the shrubs weren't planted until shortly after we moved in. Around that same time my dad installed the basketball goal which still stands on the right side of the driveway and apparently is still in use after more than 23 years. A year or two after we moved in, my dad and grandfather finished the basement adding another tv room, work room and game room with a pool table. While we lived here this house had more visitors than most will ever see. There were few weekends it wasn't overflowing from the basement to the rafters with people my dad knew from Volleyball crashing on the floor, couch or guest room in sleeping bags. As my brother and I grew this house became the hangout for our friends too. Our friends loved coming over and hanging out for a few hours or all night. Some of them even called our parents "mom and dad." Looking at the front of this house, my room was on the top behind the two windows on the left. The walls of my room went through as many changes as I did evidenced by the plethera of posters that were constantly replaced and ranged from ballet slippers and whales to teenage heart throbs or various friends and teenage crushes. It's the house where my brother and I had our pictures taken before our first and last high school dances. It's the house we both lived in when we graduated from high school and eventually returned to after college. This is the house where my family and Bird's joined together to celebrate becoming one. I spent my last night in my childhood room and this house as a bride with her new husband. The very next morning I said good-bye to this house and my family and set out to begin a new family in Wyoming. This is the house my parents sold a month later in order to move to California. This is the house my brother and I grew up in. I don't think any of us were together the first time we returned home. My first visit was 2 years after my family and I had moved out of it. To say my emotions caught me off guard would be an understatement. I was a blubbering mess. Seeing "our home" had been painted white and the family inside really wasn't mine was more than I could take. Monday afternoon, as my mom and I drove down the street toward it I worried how I might react. Who knew what other changes had taken place that might catch me off guard. The back seat of our rental car held one very obvious change in the 10 years since I stood in the driveway saying good-bye to it and my family. Just thinking of Yaya took the hurt out of seeing the new changes to our family's old house. Instead, I looked at the house in a new light and shared with Yaya the happy memories I had from when I grew up in it. She was thrilled to see and hear about the house and neighborhood I grew up in. Are you familiar with the song Kansas City by Fats Domino? It's the song everyone sang when we began our move to what would be our family's last home together. Click here if you want to listen.

10 comments:

gramma2many said...

This brought a big lump to my throat.
I never lived in one house long enough to have such precious memories.
My mother has been in her home for almost 50 years now, but I left it just two years after they moved into it.
These type memories are priceless and I am happy you have them to share with Yaya.
Love you right back!!

Gina said...

Ditto what my mom said.
Except THIS house will be that house. I don't think anything could make me move. I hope I always feel that way!

Mindy said...

Oh I can just imagine the emotions you feel seeing this house. I'm sure they're similar to the emotions I'll feel one day when my parents sell their home, the one I grew up in, and I see some other family living there.

Sissy said...

I was not always attached to houses, even though we moved several times when I was a kid. BUT, after my dad passed away and my mom sold the house (I was away at college) I drove 11 hours to say goodbye to that house on a whim. I just felt like I needed to go, and I got in the car and drove and showed up on my mother's doorstep. She cried, I cried and it was a moment we needed to have.

kathi @ traybella said...

Hi! i love childhood memories and isn't fantastic to share them with our own children?!
thanks for your visit and comment to my blog!
it was great seeing you and meeting your beautiful miracle!
keep in touch,
kathi

Susie said...

What an experience! My brother owns the house we grew up in and I love watching the changes he makes to it:-)

cat said...

What a beautiful bit of writing girl.

aspiring... said...

4/20/10

"Just thinking of Yaya took the hurt out ..." Isn't that the way of it?

A true miracle of both the power of love and the power of love in the present moment :) .

Karin @ 6ByHisDesign said...

Oh, I remember so many good times at that house! Your mom was always 'the cool mom' - and I loved that your parents were life-long partners, meeting so young and commiting to each other so completely. I can see your mom sitting in the kitchen making us laugh, your dad in the living room, your cutie brother coming in from sports practice. Pizza. Movies. You dressing as Debbie Gibson at the Halloween party...*sigh*. I love the old house, too!

Frizzy said...

Karin, your comment made me cry. I'm so glad my friends love and remember this house as I do. Hugs! I remember sun bathing on the back patio with you and talking about the boys we "loved." Good Memories I tell ya.