This morning brings deep sorrow. First of all, I will not win the “Biggest Loser” competition. I gave it a valiant effort, but just couldn’t seem to drop more than 8 lbs. during the past couple of months.
Snark aside, I’m deeply saddened for another reason this morning.
That’s our old house. On Friday evening, the house was destroyed by a massive fire. Thankfully no one was injured. But the family who lived there lost everything.
My heart is broken for that family. And I feel a sense of loss, too.
That was our very first house. We poured our hearts into building our lives in that home. We redid the entire landscape – by hand. We planted those trees and tore out the old shrubs to plant new ones. The bench in front of the living room window was an anniversary present from my mom. The red oak on the left was a housewarming gift from my parents. The window on the far right was first a sitting room, then a guest bedroom, and finally Crisana’s room. The window on the left was Matt’s office. We found many stray baseballs from the field across the street in our flowerbeds. We brought our children home from the hospital to their lovingly decorated nurseries in this house. We acquired two pets in this home. We held Bible studies and neighborhood dinners and Sunday School Christmas parties here. We hosted playgroups and birthday parties and movie nights. We formed friendships and made lasting memories within those walls.
I imagined one day taking my children back to this house to show them where it all began. To let them see where they got their start.
And now, it is no more. Farewell, 2550 Parkhaven Drive…and thanks for the memories.