We’ve only known each other for a little over 2.5 years, but I knew you were the one for me the moment we met. Actually, my husband did. He’s pretty good at seeing potential in people. And houses. We went through a lot to get you – an offer, a counter-offer, inspections, a new offer, and finally – you were ours.
Your giant trees and big backyard are just two of the reasons we love you. Your minimal 800 square feet and tiny closets prevent me from going too crazy in the Target Bargain Spot. I can clean you in your entirety in a little over two hours. You don’t mind when I get the desire to rearrange you completely and you never hold it against me if I leave a project half done.
You represent the value of hard work. You’re the product of sacrifice and commitment. Most importantly, you symbolize a safe haven for my husband and me. Your walls and roof give us comfort and warmth. Your floors, though sometimes a little sticky, support us as we walk this new path called parenthood.
We know each other so well. I can navigate you in the pitch black of night. I know your sharp corners and your light spots; you know mine. I’ve ripped you down to your bare bones and rebuilt you. And within you, life ripped me down to my bare bones and rebuilt me. You held me as I became a wife and then a mother. Together, we’ve enjoyed some of life’s best moments and weathered some of life’s toughest. You anchor my family when we go on our adventures and you joyfully welcome us every time we return.
Sometimes, I find myself wishing you were a little bigger, a little newer, and Lord knows you sure could use a second bathroom. But I will always love you as my first home, our first home, the place where my boyfriend popped the question, the threshold over which my husband carried me, the home to which I brought my first born.