Eva’s First Home

We’re in the process of packing up our house. Part of me hated this house. We moved here from a huge (for Hawaii) townhouse on base. It had just been built and we were the first people to live in it. It was close to the gym, groceries, and my favorite beach on the island. We had big closets and central AC. My best friend in Hawaii lived right next door.
It was perfect.
 
It was my decision to move. Part of it was just ants in my pants. I always feel the need to move, travel, or just change the scenery. The other part was more legit. I was 5 months pregnant and didn’t want to have to sit in traffic for an hour on the way to school everyday. When the baby had arrived I wanted to be close to her. Plus, it saved us a bit of money.
 
We stalked craigslist for a while before we found this place. It was the only place we could find with a backyard. And it was a house, rather than an apartment. It had three bedrooms so that we could have a guest room and a nursery. BUT, it was built in the 1940’s. It had no dishwasher or central AC. It had old pipes. It had ancient appliances. It had a shoddy screen door that the kitties could sneak out of. It had decaying hardwood floors that creaked with every step. You could never sneak up on anyone, not that there was much quiet to begin with. There was a woman next door with a crazy cackle that could wake the whole neighborhood. There was a kid who played the same exact song on the saxophone every day. There were narrow roads and no sidewalks. And worst of all, it was in town (no offense, townies).
But if I died and my spirit came back to haunt some place, maybe this place would be it. As I walk through the different rooms in this house, I think about all that has happened here. I think about how I used to stare out the window in the kitchen and wonder when Eva would arrive. I think about how many hours I spent under this roof, studying and writing about the law. I think about the night I packed some last minute things in the hospital bag and headed out the door. I think about the day I returned to that house, as a mother with a tiny baby. I think about the time my father met his first grandchild and about the first time Eva sat up. I think about all the emotions that were experienced in this place in the short amount of time that we lived here.
All the tears, the laughter, the energy.
I often wonder if we ever really leave a place- if there are pieces of us we leave behind wherever we go.
All I know is that as much as I hated this place, I’ll always remember it as a place that I loved.
<3

Comments

  1. This was so sweet! And I believe we really do leave a part of ourselves everywhere where we’ve made a memory because our memories always bring us back there.
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    Sapir
    coffeebooksandairplanes.blogspot.com

  2. …traigo
    ecos
    de
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    callada
    en
    la
    mano
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    una
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    desde mis
    HORAS ROTAS
    Y AULA DE PAZ

    COMPARTIENDO ILUSION
    ERICA

    CON saludos de la luna al
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    poesía…

    ESPERO SEAN DE VUESTRO AGRADO EL POST POETIZADO DE LEYENDAS DE PASIÓN, BAILANDO CON LOBOS, THE ARTIST, TITANIC SIÉNTEME DE CRIADAS Y SEÑORAS, FLOR DE PASCUA ENEMIGOS PUBLICOS HÁLITO DESAYUNO CON DIAMANTES TIFÓN PULP FICTION, ESTALLIDO MAMMA MIA,JEAN EYRE , TOQUE DE CANELA, STAR WARS,

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    Ramón…

  3. I felt the same way when we left our previous house. It was not a house I would have chosen, but it was the house he lived in while we dated, then the house I moved in to when we got married, then the house I first yelled at him in (what? it was a big deal), and THEN the house we, too, waited for our baby girl in. She spent her first year there, and I learned it in different ways (where the safe places were, and where the impossibly dirty places were too!). We found out we were pregnant with baby #2 there. So I was ready to leave, but it was like that space I disliked had absorbed all those milestones.

    I still don’t like to drive by it=)

  4. Awe, this post was sweet… it jerked a tear in my eye. I’m sure this is how I am going to feel when it comes time to leave our house too. So many firsts. Even though I hate it here sometimes for many of those same reasons… I’m not going to want to leave it behind. It’s not like we’ll be able to drive by ever and say “There’s our first house.”

  5. i understand your feelings. it happened to me back in July when we had to move. Eva is going to enjoy the new house and many wonderful memories will be made in this new place 🙂

  6. I never thought I’d feel that way since I’m always complaining about my house, but this post made me realize I just might… It’s about the memories and not the place. I guess I can’t turn my back on the first house we bought, the first house we became a family in, where my daughter spent her first Christmas…

    Good luck with your move!

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