I moved back to the DC area in 2003 after being away since I went to college. Post college I lived in Atlanta, where I was happy but just a little out of control. I started working for the company I’m still working for now, which is the only constant. I learned a great deal about life and how not to live it. I ran up long distance bills making calls to my mother who was still in the DC area. I had little to no desire to move back to everything I’d known, everything I thought I knew.
Circumstances brought me back here, back to my family, to live at home for a few months, to get my life back on track. To develop a wonderful relationship with my mother, my father. To discover that there was more to NoVA than I realized. To meet the man I will spend the rest of my life with. To fulfill my dream of owning a dog and a house and a car. Inside the front door of my house is a coat rack with many, many (really entirely too many) baseball caps hanging. Must be home, right?
In many ways I still consider the house I grew up in home. I haven’t lived there since my 6 month stay in 2003, but it’s still home. It’s the street where I know every dip, bump, crack, turn. . .the driveway I can back up as if on autopilot. . .the garage door I know the code to open. The sweeping steps down the front yard. The red door. The basement door that locks from the main floor.
I remember when we moved from Connecticut to Virginia in 1986, a month or so shy of my 10th birthday. It was kind of traumatic for me as all I could remember of my life at that point had been in Connecticut. All of my friends, my school, my very young life. Everything is so much larger when you’re a child. Experiences become magnified. But I remember the move. I remember the first night we spent in that house, my sister and I were sleeping in cardboard boxes, the clothes hanging kind, in sleeping bags in my bedroom. Listening to Whitney Houston’s album on my Magnavox boom box. I remember countless birthdays, christmasses and easters, my graduation, my sister’s graduation…my wedding rehearsal dinner…This is the home that myself as well as my parents have lived in for most of my life.
Yesterday they received an offer on the house. It had been on the market for about a month and a half.
I suppose it’s all going to hit me now. This won’t be my home anymore. I won’t be able to walk in the door, sit down at the kitchen table and chat with my mom. Someone else’s memories will be made there. It will be interesting to see how I really react to all of this as the date grows closer to my parents actually moving. I’ve lived away from them, but they’ve never really lived away from me…they’ve always been here, in NoVA. Guess this is all part of growing up, moving on. . .just not sure if I’m entirely prepared for the emotions this is going to bring to the surface.