Moving is hard. You pack up all the things you own (which always seems like far more than you thought, am I right?) and move to a new home, and often new community, new neighbors, and a new routine. Don't get me wrong, there is so much joy in all the newness. It's so exciting.
But it's also bittersweet. It's leaving behind the memories of a place you called home. For me, it's leaving behind the memories of a home we stuffed way more friends + family into than what should've fit in that cape cod simply because we loved hosting our people in our home. It's leaving behind that backyard we worked so hard to turn from an overgrown mess to a haven where grilling, yard games, and fires were always present. It's leaving behind the memories of our first house together in our marriage where we spent 3 years making it our home. So much laughter, love, + tears were made here.
Now we're onto a new home where we get to make entirely new memories, and what a blessing that is. I remember that home is wherever we're together, not just a pretty structure.
When Whittney gave me this painting of our first home I couldn't handle it. How perfect is this? I can't wait to add our address in calligraphy onto it. Good friends are nice, but great friends are the ones to hold onto tight.
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