There have been quite a few goodbyes this year. And yesterday, DMac and I said goodbye to our first home together.
Wonderful things happened here. We hosted NYE, had family over and shared pies from the shop down the street. The night before our wedding, (a night I’m sure I still don’t have all the details of), DMac’s buddies and their wives ALL crashed in various spots on the floor. Sometimes we were a halfway house for friends passing through or wanting to see a museum or show, sometimes we were a final destination, always we were a place where people knew they could have their heart’s desire of cheese, beer, and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. Not necessarily in that order.
DMac and I applied for jobs at the same dining room table where we served our most thoughtfully planned out meals. We spent lazy Saturday mornings curled up in our soft bed with the most beautiful light coming through the windows, and then he would bring me a cup of coffee, and then we would go for a walk. It happened a lot.
Horrible things happened here. Our bathroom flooded, the AC gave up the ghost, Millie had a copious amount of accidents on the carpet. I faced the deepest, loneliest depression I have ever known. DMac failed the bar and we cried. My Nana died and we sat slumped together on the floor on a night so dark it felt like the sun didn’t plan on coming up again.
We had arguments and slammed doors but the funniest thing about this place was that no matter where you were in this tiny apartment, you could always see the other person, so no argument could ever last too long. We snuck dogs in that weren’t allowed and laughed too loud too late at night. We binge watched Netflix and ate inappropriate amounts of sushi. We almost never cleaned out the fridge and bickered over whose turn it was to clean the bathroom. In a lot of ways, we grew up here.
I’ll miss our weird neighbor Peaches, the walk to the bridge in our pretty little town, the maintenance man Chris. I won’t miss the basement laundry, the tiny bathroom, or parking my car sideways on a hill.
It’s so easy to dwell on all I’ve lost this year. Lately I’ve caught myself running down the laundry list of hurts that have accumulated and the needs we have. But there is still this nagging voice in the back of my mind, who whispers so softly I have to quiet my brain to hear:
Look what God has done for you. Look at your Daniel, your family, the fulfillment you’ve found. Feel how you’ve grown and stretched and been softened but strengthened in all that has happened in these four walls in these three years. And be glad.
