For Someone Else

I was mopping my bathroom floor tonight. I wasn't doing it for myself. We have a showing for our home that I'm getting ready for. Heaven only knows I'm far too busy to actually mop my own floor for my enjoyment.

As I was mopping I caught a glint of glitter stuck in the grout of the tile floor. I remember where that glitter came from. Eliza, as an exploring 1-year old, came to show me a small snow globe she had discovered. Unfortunately, it slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor breaking and leaving water and glitter everywhere. I never managed to get all that glitter out. And there it was tonight, reminding me, of all those little moments I've had in this home the past several years.

Some things are so easy to document and remember. The first time we brought the boys to the house. The first time we brought brand new baby Eliza home. Then brand new baby Afton. I could go on but I won't. Tucked into the recesses and corners of my memory are the thousands and thousands of moments I can't place just by seeing glitter on the floor but they are there just the same.

Albeit those moments are so stereo-typical they are beautiful in their fleetingness. Giggles and laughing, faces and hands happily covered in a treat, successes and sorrows, slamming doors (good and bad), the quiet of moments spent devouring books, the content sounds of playing sometimes followed by the sounds of contention, the busy-ness and hum of this home. I saw it all in Afton's happy smile just this morning. Peace . . . familiarity . . . contentment.

However this will all change. I'm living in my house now for someone else. People I don't know who will have all their own experiences and memories here. People who will poke through my closets and cabinets. Wander my house. Inspect my walls and doors. I desire to detest these people. I'm not sure why. They won't take my life from me when they buy my home. Because in reality, it is just a house. Brick, mortar, wood, drywall, paint.

The funny thing is that's happening somewhere else right now in Minnesota. People living in a house now intended for me. Hard as it seems to me as I contemplate it, we will start over again, and make memories and it will once again feel like a home.