I never know how to title these things… I stepped away for a bit after posting the first part of my story, I needed to be quiet and process what was going on in the moment. Now I’m here today to talk a little bit about that situation..

This evening I was filled with an almost unbareable amount of saddness.. and it started with taking one of my mothers drawings off of the wall at my parents house.. Dad is leaving our family home, its gone, lost, and it has all happened quickly. we are in the process of packing dad to move to central washington, and honestly im quite excited for him. But i am also battling this insane deep sadness.. i told my husband tonight that i just don’t know how to handly the thought of, one of these days i will walk through those doors for the last time. It terrifies me.

This house was my grandparents, Bud and Alice. Two absolutely amazing people that loved their family to no end, and there wasnt anyone in their circle that wasnt considered family. This wasn’t just any old house, this place was truly a home, where everyone was welcome and loved. you can feel it in the walls of the house, in the knick-knacks still hanging around from years long past, you can feel it in the dirt you walk on.. a family was built there.

Due to some unfortunate circumstances, our family will soon no longer own, or even be allowed on this property, and its breaking my heart. Growing up, it was grandma and grandpas house. the place of freedom, chaos and good times. a place where us kids ran wild, the adults worked hard and the family loved even harder. as an adolecent, it was our home, mom and dad purchased the house from grandma and grandpa so that us kids had a safe place to grow up. we had horses, a goat, a pot bellied pig a cat and dogs on this place. we made it our own. grandma and grandpa moved into a manufactured home on the back portion of the property, and unfortunately we lost grandma not too long after that move. but growing up with my grandpa across the yard was something i will always be greatful for. having a bad day? go see grandpa, fighting with your siblings? go see grandpa, cant beat your siblings to the remote? go watch it at grandpas.

i loved growing up the way we did. family was always around. whether it be cousins, aunts and uncles or “aunts” and “uncles” there was always someone around and always something going on. bonfires, barbecues, fishing, you name it, we were doing it.

I feel these memories in every bit of the property. im not sure if im weird or if everyone sees memories play through their mind like a movie like i do. I touch a wall and im instantly transported back to playing lincoln logs with my cousins, or i turn a corner in the driveway and im back in the moment chasing my uncle during a waterbaloon fight, where he falls the the gravel and gets pretty scraped up.. its like its hapening all over again.

i have never really known if i should take solace in these memories playing out the way they do, or if they just bring me sadness and depression, expecially after loosing mom. i look out the window standing at the kitchen sink, down into the field where our three horses used to roam and i see so many fun times, but then i snap back to reality and its just empty, lonely and sad. how do i find the balance..

i have always been more connected to my family history and traditions then others have. and i am the one in the family that wears her heart on her sleeve every moment. so this is all extremely painful. im afraid that once i cant touch that place anymore, that the memories will stop.. and no matter the amount of sadness i feel with some, i dont want to forget, i dont want to loose them.

this is the place that built me, the place pieced together by hand by the people i love the most, how do i say goodbye to it.. how do i walk out those doors for the last time… im about to be 31, but when i go home, i feel like im 16 coming home to my safe place. what i wouldnt give to be in those moments again.. but we know thats not reality. realiry