To My House on Liberty

As we prepared to list our house, our agent asked us to fill out some questionnaires to help market the house. I answered questions about what I loved most about the house, features of our area that I liked, and favorite memories of our house. As you might imagine, simple paperwork became a trip down memory lane that ended in a flood of tears.

Even though our house is still on the market, I thought it time to publish some fond memories of that place. Inspired by another blogger who is saying goodbye to her house, I thought I would write a farewell post to my sweet St. Louis house. 

 

Dear House on Liberty,

     Admittedly, we were not looking for you when you came into our lives. Lindon and I had not had any conversations about purchasing a house in St. Louis. But apartment life felt so limiting, especially for Nash, and when we regularly walked by your gigantic yard, suddenly home ownership felt like the most natural thing.

 

And when I saw your stained glass, rounded archways, and beautiful floors, owning you seemed even more appealing. But behind your initial appeal was a house that needed some help reaching its potential. Lindon poured so much into you - insulating you, freshening your walls with paint, replacing crumbling siding, making your kitchen beautiful and functional, expanding your welcome with a deck.

You were the site of so many sweet memories. New Year's Eve parties, backyard barbecues, birthday parties, graduation parties, and all manner of informal gatherings with friends. Laughter and cheer echoed through you. When we brought our first two children home from the hospital, we brought them to you.

 

Were you perfect? No. As Levi gained mobility, you seemed to shrink. Your bright windows let in an awful lot of heat in the summer and cold in the winter. And the beautiful floors that echoed with laughter when friends came over also echoed with baby cries, even when we tried to avoid them. 

But you were our home, and we loved you. Our departure was horribly unceremonious, with me having the stomach flu and Levi being weepy (not about leaving you), and Lindon having a headache from not eating anything since he had to finish packing and deal with weepy Levi with no help from me.

 

So, this letter is to say thank you. Thank you for being our home for five years. You were the site of treasured memories, and we will not forget you. During our stay within your walls we went from a family of 2 (with a dog) to a family of 4 (with a dog). 

What we want now is to hand you off to someone else who for whom you can be the site of happy memories. This is our prayer.

But no matter what happens, we will always be grateful for how you served our family so well during our time in St. Louis.

Affectionately yours,

m

A Few Photos for You

This photo embodies much of our life at this moment. Levi talks while Shields smiles. Levi talks about everything. Shields smiles about everything. Even the blurriness seems to fit life right now.

Levi loves to interact with Shields, but since the interactions still involve so much boisterous enthusiasm on Levi's part, they also involve a lot of supervision on my part so as to not end in Shields being terrified or injured. That can get tiring, so I cherish the rare chance to capture moments when they are just together. And Levi isn't talking. 

Though I somehow missed the connection when I took this picture, it hits me now how much Levi resembles Lindon here. The body position, the hair, the expression on his face, the plaid shirt, the hat. At moments Levi really does look like a mini-Lindon.

While this is not a glamorous cover, I have enjoyed reading these brief interviews with Southern writer and historian Shelby Foote. 

I will write more later about what we have been doing and how we have been doing, but until then, enjoy the pictures!