It was my last work-day at the old house. I swept out each room, mopped each floor. And as I did I had flashes of memories. Like old home movies, kind of grainy, warbled sounds, distorted color.
I walked through after the floors were dry and let myself ruminate in the memories, let a few tears fall, let my heart hurt a little, let the whispers of thanks permeate the silent empty rooms.
My sensitive soul, it feels deeply.
There was pause at the place in the living room where my kitty died. Where I watched her exhale for the last time.
There were tears as I recalled the evening I watched my Gracie walk out of that house , her wise brown eyes loving, knowing she wouldn't be coming back.
The hall echoed with the voices of the boys when they were just 8 and 10, they've changed so much since we moved in.
And I thanked God for the closeness He brought about in our family while we lived in that house. He worked in mighty ways, growing each one of us.
We faced trials, defeats, and victories in those walls and I don't take any of that lightly. So while it is just a house, it was our home and life was lived there.
One chapter closed.
And the story continues...