vivre, c’est naître lentement

i like this home.
this home in marietta was my shelter from age 6 to 18.
it hasn't always been my refuge, but it certainly is this weekend.

outside it is the yard
where we played laser tag with the vests and guns that were one of will's birthday presents,
where we took our easter pictures,
where we play bocce with the cousins,
where we once found baby bunnies,
where we would try to climb the bradford pear tree, before it split and fell down.

it in is the living room
where we would watch little house on the prairie in the summer before swim team practice,
where my parents carefully placed my baby sister on the brick of the fireplace on the day she came home from the hospital.

in it is the foyer
where will once chased me, causing me to fall onto a metal star
(the doctor said it would scar but it didn't),
the staircase we would run down on christmas morning, with dad filming from the bottom,
the loft where we would make forts,
where we would walk around the edges dangerously even though mom told us not to.

in it is the kitchen
where i would do my homework in middle school,
where we would eat publix rotisserie chicken,
where i would sneak into the pantry when no one was looking to eat some of the colored icings that came in the betty crocker tubes
(the yellow one was definitely the tastiest),
where i would climb up onto the counters to get a plate because, for the longest time, i was too small to reach them.

in it is my bedroom
where i lost my baby teeth,
where i stayed up all night, droswy-eyed but determined, writing papers in high school,
where i put my hair into countless numbers of buns in front of my mirror
(there were usually bobby pins everywhere),
where i would hide in my closet, nestled next to my bookshelf to read and write,
where my mom would open the door to wake me up gently,
where my dad would tuck me in, making me "as snug as a bug in a rug,"
where i had laura ashley bunnies papering my walls for the first few years.

this home has changed in the last few years.
new hardwood floors, new paint,
less kids at home, healthier food in the fridge.
emily is working on moving into my old room.
these things feel strange sometimes, but they don't bother me much.
i have changed and grown, why should i expect different from my home?

and though our family has changed and grown,
they are still the same.
and i love coming home to them.