Thursday, March 1, 2018


Oh 8213 you have been good to us, but now we must part ways.
If I could I figure out how to rearrange your rooms slightly I would.
And I would stay forever, or at least longer.
I love your giant yard and the way you back up to the state park.
I love the memories my family has created with you.
You will always hold a special place in my heart.

You were the first house we owned as a couple.
You were the first house Lucy called home.
You were the first house Blake called home.
You became a place of safety and stability for our foster kids.

On the first day we bought you we learned we were not only new homeowners but also about to be parents.
Inside of you we prayed and hoped for the tiny one growing inside.
We brought home our sweet and tiny baby Lucy to you.
You watched us as we rocked late into the night in her early days, you watched as we went from a couple to a family of three, a family of four, a family of five, and eventually a family of seven with all of its joys and and sorrows.
You watched as we learned to become parents in a multitude of ways.
Inside of you sweet Lucy learned how to roll, crawl, walk, run, and developed into her own.
Inside of you Lucy hit many milestones.

Three years in we brought home our first son, Blake.
On your floors he grew and grew. He learned to roll, crawl, and tackle Lucy while you stood by.
He said his first words, cried tears of frustration, and began to become who he is.

Over the course of the years we welcomed many foster kids.
You were a home for respite and for placement.
In your walls they found shelter, warmth, and love.
Around our table they ate and filled their bellies and the fridge was always full.
At night we walked laps around you in hopes of sleep for the young and confused child in our midst.

We raised many a good chicken outside of you.
Your grass kept them fed and nourished during the spring, summer, and fall.
Your soil grew many good vegetables that filled our stomachs.

In the kitchen we created many meals some ornate and many pb&j sandwiches.
At the table we broke bread with family and friends, we caught up on life and forgot about the world around us.
We made cookies and desserts, we made meals to share and meals for ourselves - we ate our fill.
We played game after game as our competitive natures took hold.
We payed bills and wrote letters.

In the living room we laughed, we cried, we read countless books, we built towers of blocks and sent them crashing down.
I crocheted more hats and things than I care to think about.
Marc napped in the sunshine on the couch with Lucy and Dakota by his side.
Lucy, tested the living room to it's limits, I am sure there are still ground cheerios somewhere deep in the carpets, there is milk spilled here and there, and there are spots on the walls where toys went banging.
Blake, loved to run from the living room, around the kitchen island and down the hall. The stairwell was perfect for launching items down.
Dakota, napped everywhere, and I am certain for years to come golden retriever fluff will be coming out of the carpets, the vents, and the woodwork.
We celebrated countless holidays, birthdays, and every days in your midst.

In the basement the washer and dryer ran without stop {or so it felt some days}.
You taught us the valuable lessons of teamwork as we figured out how to finish you off, you taught us about the challenges of learning new skills and what it takes to make such a big project happen.
You taught us about the value of youtube instructions and asking for help when we were in over our heads.
We ran hundreds of miles and biked countless hours and watched copious amounts of tv/movies/netflix.
We hosted guests in the two bedrooms down below and one became home to a sweet baby girl.
In a closet space converted to craft room, I was free to create, free to make, free to design, to forget about the world around me.

From your backyard, we made countless trips to the Paul Bunyan trail and the Crow Wing State Park. We watched far too many gophers dig big holes.
We grilled meals while watching the sunset in the distance as we talked about our hopes and dreams.
We watched the deer hide from the hunters in the park and wondered what other things roamed through you in the night.

We celebrated holidays and birthdays. We celebrated milestones both big and small. We welcomed friends, strangers, neighbors, and children to your presence. We spent time both outside and in. You are indeed good and our time together was blessed. Forever will we be thankful for you.

You were great to us. You are a place of rest and safety. Thank you for all that you are and were for us.

If your walls, floors, and ceilings could talk - I pray it would tell the next owner of the good times, the tough times, and the everyday time. I pray it would remember not only the big moments but also the little ones that made up our every day. I pray this house radiates warmth, joy, and love.

I pray for the new owners and for our home.
May you:
      have as much joy within this home as we did
      love one another & welcome guests
      become their home not merely a house
      treasure on this home as much as we did
      be a place of warmth, love, and fellowship
      continue to be place of rest and safety

Beloved 8213, you will always hold a special place in our hearts, I grieve leaving you on many levels, but I trust this is the right move for us. We need more bedrooms together. Never in our wildest imagination did we envision 5 small children living within your walls. Thank you, for the memories, thank you for all you were for us. Thank you for being home.

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