I’m not the first to farewell a house. But this week I bid farewell to my house, my home, my sanctuary – place of my own. A place I closed the door on one last time.
It’s where I welcomed babies, mourned losses, forged friendships and retreated with family. It is where I firmly unpacked my wandering suitcase and announced I was home.
This home bore witness to 13 years of our life – its walls sheltered, protected and comforted us.
We walked in these doors as 2 and depart a family of 4. Under its roof we’ve gathered thoughts and adventures, dwelt in sadness but mostly celebrated with joy.
On these floors little toes became big feet, in this corner a business was born, on this deck ideas turned from tentative whispers to confident roars.
This house – a palace of sanctuary, security, celebration.
Through this door stumbled his weary mother at all hours to hold him, pat him, reassure him, to chase monsters and welcome dreams … then to crawl backwards across the threshold as sleep takes hold.
This quiet house – where his sister filled the next door room with giggles and chatter. Leaving notes for fairies, playing make believe and clinking tea sets. Singing to the stars and shaping boxes into works of art. Kissing dolls goodnight and blue wrens good morning in the star jasmine outside her window.
I walk through rooms collecting every memory, extracting moments and placing them in a pocket near my heart; building a tribute to the echoes of 13 years.
Throwing open bifolds on balmy Summer days, stoking fires when the ocean winds came roaring. Blue tongues return each year, wattle birds sing from moonah trees, the chooks over the back cluck their greetings.
Rockpools beckon from ocean breezes and pounding surf rattles windows, providing a rythmn to our sleep.
Thank you house for holding us up, wrapping us in your warmth and comfort, for offering respite, for dazzling as we partied on your deck on summer nights.
Thank you for helping us shape ourselves as parents.
These walls. These doors.
Just a house.
But so much more. A witness to our lives.
One door closes, another opens.