Closing the Lights One Last Time
We are taught to leave this world better than we found it. Nine years ago Hubbz had hair and I was rocking 24 like, well, a rockstar. We were in the midst of planning a crazy-huge Italian wedding and building what was, at the time, our dream home. A modest, cute little place for a semi-young couple to start off in. We watched step-by-step as our house was built. We visited often and took pictures each step of the way. We dreamed up huge dreams about what our future would hold. I look back on our 9 years here and I wonder where the time has gone. Surely it hasn’t been that long… Except it has.
This home sweet home. It’s been a place to lay our heads after long days. It’s been a place of peace when the world outside gets to be too much. It’s been a place of finding myself. It’s been a place of learning how to be a wife. It’s the place where we learned what marriage was all about. It’s where I built a life with Hubbz. It’s the place that this man I married turned into My Champion that I can’t imagine a day without. This place has been our breath of fresh air. Lazy afternoons in the hammock on the deck with our Bella. A house stuffed to the brim with holiday memories and Shark Week kickoff parties. It’s been a home full of more BBQ’s than one could ever want and a whole lot of takeout too. It’s been a place of sleepover Saturday’s with my 3 nieces and Netflix Friday nights with Hubbz. For Hubbz it’s the home that his Papa was so proud of him for building. This is the home where Hubbz and I dance in the living room and cook together in the kitchen. It’s the place we perfected the art of s’more making around the fire pit with amazing friends. It’s the place we learned to literally get on our knees and pray together. It’s the home where we learned about compromise and intentionality in marriage. It’s the home where I fell in love with Hubbz, my best friend, all over again. It’s the home where we found out we were going to be a mommy and daddy.
This modest little place. Not very big but bursting at the seams with memories. Some good, some bad, all of them ours. Leaving this home is the end of an era for Hubbz and I. We’re ending the chapter in our life together that has been all about us. The next chapter has already begun to unfold, at the center of it, a sweet little child that we have prayed so desperately for. It is so hard to move on from what we have created but at the same time, we are so excited for the future.
It is now, that the last episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air plays in my head (because that’s how my brain works.) Will is standing in the living room remembering all the memories. That lump in your throat starts to form as he walks over and turns off the lights for the last time. This moment is kinda like that- except there’s no Carlton running down the stairs with his pants around his ankles wondering where everyone went (if you have no idea what I am talking about, for the love, YouTube it. I’ll say “you’re welcome” in advance.)
I stand in our living room and look around. The house hasn’t been this empty since we moved in 9 years ago- almost to the day. This place is infused with so many memories. It’s so quiet now though. Hubbz looks over at me and asks if I am ready. I turn to leave with him but before I do, I pause and I close my eyes. I can feel his arms wrap around me and my hot tears on my cheeks. I take a deep breath and I listen. For a moment I can hear the laughter we left behind that is soaked into these walls. I thank God for the blessings this home offered us. I thank God for all of the life that happened in this home. The good and the bad all brought us to this day. I look up at him and through his own tears he says “You ready for the next chapter with me?” I nod my head yes – and with that it’s time to close the lights one last time.
We are taught to leave this world better than we found it. For this little plot of land in this sweet little city, we have done just that. Change has never ever been easy for me but once again in my life, I am so humbly thankful to have had something that makes saying goodbye so difficult.