I just had a chance this week to visit the house where I grew up in Salt Lake City. The one that my parents have decided to put on the market. Although all of us kids know it's for the best (my parents have moved to Park City), our hearts are all heavy to let it go. There are so many memories bursting from within those walls.
Walking around those empty hallways reminded me of this post my sister wrote about it a while back. Makes me teary each time I think about it. I think this is my favorite part of what she wrote:
"Every inch, every corner, every crack of that house is soaking with memories and the air is different inside that place than anywhere else in the world. It is mixed with millions of sacred moments; expressions of testimony and love, sighs of relief and frustration, gasps for breath from emotional times, whiffs of special scents from Christmas or family recipes or fires in the living room, and dribbled with wafting sounds of laughter and tears. Thirty-five years, nine kids: indeed, millions of memories. I wonder if the renters feel a buzz in the air? Can they sometimes catch a glimpse of the joy and growth and love seeping out of the corners?"
It makes me even more melancholy to think of this now that Dave and I are starting to think about the day that will come when we will be letting our house go as well. It makes me think hard about what we can do to bring in a spirit of love and service and supporting one another. How I hope that one day my children can feel the same way about our home as we do about that one.
The thing I have realized is that it's not really the house that matters so much. It's how it feels in that house.
How blessed I feel to have been able to grow up in a home with so much character and love within it's walls.
My parents are so hoping to be able to hand that home over to a family who can build memories like we did there. They are even willing to totally work with the price to get a good family in there. More information about the set-up and contact info. here if anyone is interested.