Today is my last day in Wisconsin. Jon, Gus and Pardus (the cat) left this morning while the movers were still loading our belongings into the truck.
When I get done with work today I will head over to our house for one final walk-through. I will walk through each room and try not to be flooded with memories of our life there. But part of me does want to be flooded with those memories. I want to remember our life in that house. I want to remember the first time we put up a Christmas tree. The first time we hung Oscar's and Bella's stockings on the mantle. I want to remember Gus learning to walk and run on the couch in the living room. The times Jon was sitting on the steps, I'd walk into his arms and we'd hug.
We brought Oscar and Bella home to that house, granted they were in an urn, but we still brought them home. Tittle died in that house. We brought Gus home to that house. Firefly died in that house. Bean's life began, well not in that house, but began while we lived in that house.
I broke my wrist, the only broken bone I've ever had, as a result of that house. I know that memories can be taken with me, and that it's just a house, which is true, but for the girl who never moved until she went to college, leaving a house behind is huge.