We recently closed on the sale of our home in Burleson.
The home that I thought I would never move from, that we thought was the perfect place to spend the rest of our lives.
Set on an acre of land, it had a workshop for Jess, and hobby house (that was crammed with stuff) for me, and plenty of space for the family to all be together.
It was the house where my grandkids spent weekends (and weeks) with me, playing on the rope swing, swimming in the pool, hunting Easter eggs, carving pumpkins, building snowmen, and decorating Christmas trees.
It was the house where we planted roses in memory of relatives who are no longer part of this world, along with the little pine tree that was my dad’s last Christmas tree (a little tiny “live tree” that came in a 12 inch pot, that has now grown to be a 5 foot pine tree), irises that had been passed from my great-grandmother to my grandmother to my mother to me, and ferns to cover the spots where our beloved pets Moe and Tilly were buried.
To say that it was a bittersweet moment would be an understatement.
You see, I have spent most of my life moving. My dad was in powerline work, and we relocated often, because he was transferred to different locations on a frequent basis. It was not a bad life. I rather enjoyed seeing new country (sometimes seeing the same country for a second or third time), and meeting new people. And, I loved being the new kid in school. Over my 13 years of public education, from kindergarten to high school graduation, I changed schools 23 times. I never had to complete a term paper until I hit my senior year!
Through my childhood years, we lived in some great houses. Some were brand new, in little neighborhoods, where we grew flowers and trees and great friendships that have lasted through the years.
And some were old houses, surrounded by orange trees and horse pastures, with only a fireplace and wood cook stove to provide heat through the cold winters.
After my brothers left home, my parents bought a trailer for us to live in, which made moving so much simpler. Just tape down the cabinets and hitch on, and we were off to a new adventure. It made perfect sense!
But, after I left home, I wanted to be settled. I wanted my kids to live in the same house and to go to the same school from kinder to graduation, and to have a place to come home to with their children.
My dreams were of a big house with a huge porch, surrounded by trees and flowers, with neighbors and friends and relatives popping in for iced tea and nice visits and lots of kids and maybe a few puppies and cats.
Evidently, that is not what God wanted for me.
In my adult life, I have averaged a major move every seven years. I’ve lived in tents , travel trailers, apartments, mobile homes, old dilapidated shacks and nice brick houses. What I’ve learned from all my moving is that a house is just a building, made of wood or brick or metal, and can be bought or sold or destroyed. A home is made in your heart, and is something that no one can build, sell, or destroy.
We have found a nice little house here in San Antonio. It has a little porch on the front and a small yard in the back. I have transplanted a few of the flowers I had in Burleson, some of the roses, a lot of the irises, starts from the lilies and ferns that grew over our old pets. I have met nice neighbors and I’ve had relatives who drop by for a glass of iced tea and spend a few minutes just visiting. The grandkids have been here and have given it their stamp of approval. A pair of puppies have adopted us and make their home in our house and are slowly working their way into our hearts, although Jinx is still the lord of the manor.
I am hoping that God will decide to extend my tenure at this house, as it is becoming more comfortable as pictures are placed on walls, boxes are unpacked and items are put into their proper places. It’s nice to be home.
Performed by Elvis (like who else can do that song?)…I’m not too crazy about the slideshow that is here but I do love the song.
