My parents recently decided that they hate me and sold our house. To add insult to injury, they're abandoning me and moving across the country. They've been talking about moving for a while, but the actual selling/buying of homes moved pretty quickly (like, in one day quickly). They're moving shortly after Easter, so this means I'm spending part or all of virtually every weekend in between at home. Trying to say goodbye to the house I've lived in for the past 14 years has been hard. Just this weekend, I walked into my bedroom and started crying at the sight of my dresser. To reiterate: I cried over a dresser. In my defense, Paigey had stolen it and had it in her room for the past few years, so to see my room as my room, complete and whole, one more time was emotional. An unexpected, but much needed, momentary return to a simpler time.
The three of us went to Front Street Fountain- the restaurant where my sister worked- for the last time. We talked with the owners about Paige (and Jacob), and I ordered my favorite tomato-soup-that's-basically-just-marinara-sauce-and-it's-seriously-delicious. I not only met Spiderman and Frank and Patty at FSF, I also got gear for gym and sports there back in the days that it was Bill Battey's. And, you guessed it, I cried (I covered by saying, "Nope, not quite ready to order yet!")
Kayla came over, too. We talked and went to Rita's (they even had rootbeer- the only flavor my Dad will eat, and the only one that I won't) and to the post office. We ate pork chops and went to Women's Conference. We got caught in the rain several times, which is the surest sign that spring has come. The fireflies signal the arrival of summer, and I mourn the fact that I didn't know that my hometown firefly catching days last summer were my last.
I woke up to the scent of freshly-baked brownies on Sunday morning. That alone should illustrate why I'm going to miss being able to go home several times a month. Or maybe you would understand if you knew how comfortable my bed is, or how many off-season clothes my closet stores for me. Or if you could read the countless volumes of my memories, or if you were able to see the trivial moments that serve as monuments to my personal growth.
Heilbron, how I love you.
You're all invited home for Easter, just be forewarned that I'm going to be a wreck.