Wednesday, September 28, 2016

bargeron bungalow | things I'll miss most.

+walking the same streets that I once walked as a little girl
+being so close to so many people who have known me since I was that little girl
+admiring all of the little and big things we've done over the years to make this house our home
+being able to walk to chick-fil-a and justify all those milkshakes
+listening to the pitter-patter of our first child's hands and feet echoing off these old hardwoods
+the glass door knobs and clawfoot tub that made me yell "SOLD!" when we first saw the house
+sitting around the fire pit roasting s'mores
+being a stone's throw from Publix
+all of the new faces we've gotten used to seeing while strolling or walking or playing in the yard
+weekly (sometimes more) trips to the zoo
+swinging on our gorgeous front porch swing that we scored at an auction for only $10
+B looking out the window that overlooks the front yard
+leaving behind TJ's beloved garage that he worked so hard on for so long
+popping in to see my parents at any given time
+the humility that comes with sharing a small bathroom
+the extra humility that comes with sharing a small closet
+running into Walgreens or Publix and seeing so many familiar faces
+the stunning brick fireplace and mantle above it
+the many windows that let so much natural light pour in
+those distinct toddler fingerprints on our black refrigerator
+all the memories we made, my boys and me
Our bungalow was the first big journey that Teesh and I embarked on together as husband and wife, and you just can't replace memories like that. We signed hundreds of papers before getting the keys, and we ate our first meal (Chick-fil-a, of course) on the floor of the dining room as we waited for his parents to drive up in the U-Haul. We had never been so excited to unpack boxes, and everything was in its place within a few days of moving in. We were on a mission!
Since that day, this house has been a spot for family gatherings, surprise parties, surprise announcements, yard sales, and frequent pop-ins. We were standing in the dining room when I told TJ that he was going to be a daddy, and we couldn't wait to get home after Braxton was born. The floors have been stained with tears on many occasions, and my knees have dug into them too many times to count. They've, also, been stained with baby drool over the past year and a half, and I'm thankful to have been the one to clean it up. I've fallen from the couch to these same floors while laughing myself to tears from being tickled by my goofy husband, too. And just last week, I fell into TJ's chest when we decided to no longer pursue a particular house, and we stood in the kitchen and cried together.
Happy tears and sad tears have both lived here while we have.

And they'll be hard to leave behind.
To some, a house is just a house, but that's never been the case for me. Every house I've ever lived in has shaped me in ways that words can't describe, and our bungalow is the perfect picture of what faithfulness, providence, and redemption looks like. This house has been used to stretch us, heal us, inspire us, and ground us. Its walls have been strong and steadfast, and its vintage character taught me that it's possible to swoon over the same thing every single day.
What a blessing it has been to have loved a home so much, so whole-heartedly. And what a blessing it is to look forward to the next house that will become our home and be loved just as much.

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